A new life
by Clarisse972
Summary: Carrie and Brody try to start a new life together after a half-successful extraction. They will have to learn to live again. Will they overcome their fears?
1. Part 1

Hello, this is my second Homeland fanfic.  
It is an AU that takes place at the end of Season 3.  
I wish to give my favorite couple an ending less atrocious.  
I have received encouragements and I want to thank **Terzima** and **Lipamo**.  
I have voluntarily left aside some technical aspects, I hope it won't bother you; I want to focus on the characters' psychology. It is about drama and romance.  
All the characters I am going to use belong to **Howard Gordon and Alex Gansa**. Thanks to them for using **Gideon Raff**'s idea.

I thank a lot **Terzima** for the translation (from French to English.)

Enjoy your reading.

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A New Life

Part 1

* * *

We had just landed, the extraction had gone well except for one thing: we were not going back to the USA. Our country had betrayed us but despite everything, Saul had released us from a deadly trap. I didn't know how or why he had chosen to decide against the initial decision but there was one thing I was sure of: I would be forever grateful to him. My hand was holding Brody's. I had slept all through the flight, reassured by that simple touch. He had slept less, or even not at all.  
He was staring at the window, his gaze unfocused, lost in some ugly memory.

"Come," I said, pulling him up by the hand.

I was unable to let go of his hand.  
All we had was false IDs and a little money. An agent guided us out of the small private airplane and we climbed down slowly, a bit confused, inhaling the cold air of the German land. I held his hand a little tighter, was I afraid he would escape me? Probably yes, I had almost lost him so many times.  
With his other hand, he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, unable to stand the gaze of anyone else but me on him. However there were very few people in the small airport. Agent X returned to the cockpit without a word. We were alone now. As I expected, a surge of stress rose inside me and I fought it fiercely to force the hectic beatings of my heart to slow down. I could not falter, not now, not when he was counting on me.  
We walked towards the exit, going through an empty hall. Outside, a driver was waiting for us. Brody hesitated for a second, scrutinizing the driver of the sedan with distrust. Out of habit, I analyzed the man of a certain age, sitting in the driver's seat, dark-haired, clean-shaven, his eyes looking at the road in front of him, no tension, nothing suspicious. I relaxed, Brody felt it and relaxed too – at least relatively.

Sitting side by side, we buckled our seat belts. The man acknowledged us with a slight nod of the head and quickly drove into the traffic which was apparently rather light. Watching the road signs, I understood we had left the outskirts of Munich. Brody looked at the road and cast worried glances through the back window.

"Where are we going?" I asked.  
"Ulm," the driver answered. "You'll sleep there tonight, tomorrow morning, you'll have to drive to your final destination not far from the French border. You'll find the detailed information in the glove compartment of the car that will be waiting for you in Ulm."

So we were assigned to residence in Germany. Not so bad a destination, I had vague remnants of German from my studies. I leaned back, trying to forget all the negative, I had to focus on what counted most, and what counted most was within me and by my side.  
The drive only lasted an hour and a half. I had watched the landscape of this unknown country go by, wondering how I would fit in. Fear gripped me again, but I pushed it back, determined. In my life, I had never been so sure of one thing: I would painfully miss my work, my family, in fact all that I loved, but I knew it was the right decision. No, it was the only possible decision for me to live fully.  
It was noon when we arrived at the little house that was waiting for us on the road leading out of Ulm. The owner was a friendly young lady, she greeted us and Brody answered mechanically in perfect German. I was surprised at that new ability I didn't know about and realized there were many things I didn't know about him.

"_You know the most important,"_ I reassured myself.

She followed up with a discussion in which Brody participated minimally, and took us to our guest room on the upper floor. It was simple but cozy and exactly what we needed: isolated and quiet. I visited the place quickly; from the window, all I could see was a garden crossed by a rivulet. Our driver was already far away, I thought, also gone without a word. We were alone now.

"Please ask her where our car is."

Brody was about to comply but she answered with a smile.

"I understand American a little. Your car is in the driveway."

I had seen it but thought it was hers. We thanked her. She left us after offering us lunch, I was hungry, I found the idea tempting but a single glance toward Brody dissuaded me.

"No, we'll be fine, thank you."  
"She'll have lunch with you," he ordered without even looking at me, "I'll catch some sleep."

To support his words, he went and lay down on the queen-size bed that was inviting for me too. I was exhausted.

"Brody…" I started to protest.  
"You will certainly not remain without eating. Go ahead, I'll stay here."

He had already closed his eyes, I sensed a need to take care of me despite the chasm existing between us. So I obeyed and didn't try to discuss. In the door frame, I stopped for a second, uneasy at the prospect of leaving him behind if only for a minute. I didn't know what was in his head because after finding out that his country had rejected him despite his heroic act, he had expressed nothing, as if he expected it. What were his hopes in life? What did he expect from me? Did he really want to live with me or did he have to follow me because there was no other solution?

"You can have lunch in room if you wish," offered the young woman in a friendly way.  
"Thank you Madam."

I didn't know her name, and neither did she know ours. She stepped back and whispered to me: "I'll be right back."  
She closed the door, my feet were already taking me back to Brody. Sitting at the foot end of the bed, I took my shoes off, rubbed my sore feet. He opened an eye.

"You always achieve your ends, don't you?" He sounded serious but I felt the shadow of a smile. He reached out for me, I moved little by little toward him, still sitting. He took me by the waist, laid his head near my thigh. "Carrie, what are we going to do?"

I gently stroked his head that prickled the palm of my hand, first signs of his hair growing again, to my delight. "We're going to eat, have a shower, sleep. Then we'll go where we'll be safe."  
"We'll never be safe anywhere," he contradicted me, closing his eyes.  
"I don't care, as long as we're the three of us".

It was my only reality now.

* * *

More to come soon


	2. Part 2

Thanks to **Lipamo, LilMisfit5290 and Bookworm1986** for their reviews and encouragements! And to **Terzima** for the translation.

You have no idea how much I love writing this fic!  
Enjoy your reading.

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A New Life

Part 2

* * *

I continued to stroke his head down to the back of his neck. His breathing got slower and he finally fell asleep. I liked to think that my presence reassured him, and I hoped he was going to get some rest. There were a few knocks at the door.

"Come in!"

Our young hostess, as blond as me, came in with a well-stocked tray. My stomach rumbled as a matter of principle. I gently slipped away from Brody's arms, covered him with the plaid that was folded on the foot of the bed and walked up to meet the young woman. She handed me the tray and wished me bon appétit. She glanced at Brody:

"When he awake, he can come have lunch."

I thanked her and she walked out silently. I put the tray on the small coffee table near the TV set and took my jacket off. Sitting on the rocking-chair that I had set sideways, I could see both the window and Brody. I literally devoured the potatoes and the beef, but ignored the crudités. I downed half of the jug of water and looked at the chocolate mousse with envy.  
I had no more nausea and was going through a positive phase of euphoria despite the treatment that had been readjusted and considerably reduced. I took the ramequin of mousse, suppressing the negative questions that were trying to force their way through the armor of well-being that I had built around me.

"Damn, this is fucking good!"

I scraped the ramequin, licked the spoon and sighed with happiness. I had never been very interested in food and could go without eating if I needed to for my work. But now, my body called and called for it – unless it was the baby?

"Now are you a little foodie?" I laughed.

I rested my head on the back of the chair, oddly serene, enjoying the warmth of the sunrays. My gaze shifted from the blue sky to Brody. He had not moved at all, curled up in a corner of the bed. His features were soft, almost relaxed. I never got tired of watching him.

I had dozed off. Or rather fallen fully asleep, since I had not noticed when he moved me. I was comfy in the bed, feeling warm, and the sun was setting down. My eyes searched for the clock and straining them a bit, I saw it was past seven.

He was not there, I heard the shower in the bathroom. I waited to be a little less drowsy to get up. I was still tired, I didn't think I was so exhausted. I mechanically stroked my belly that was discreetly getting round, I sometimes felt light gentle touches, concrete evidence of the life that was growing in there.  
I jumped because this time the contact was more precise and I had felt it under my fingers.  
I slipped out of bed and knocked on the bathroom door.

"Brody?"

I was feverish, an unknown feeling was turning my already half fucked-up brain upside down and I wanted to share it with him.  
No answer. I knocked harder and strained my ears. Still nothing. My enthusiasm fell flat and I entered the room in a panic. It was rather spacious, lit by spots, and the large bathtub on my left took up half of the space. Brody sat in it, his head bowed down. The water gushing from the big showerhead above his head hit him abundantly. The bathtub was about to overflow, I swiftly turned off the faucets and crouched down to his level. With my elbows on the edge of the tub, I scanned his face with concern. He closed his eyes, his face tightened, signs of the upcoming wreck. And, without warning, he let himself slide underwater. Jesus Christ!

"Damn it, Brody!" I yelled, stepping into the tub to try and haul him out of the water. He was like a dead weight, my clothes were heavy with the water and hampered me.

"Fuck! Brody!"

I was not scolding him, I was crying because I was unable to keep him by my side. I stopped fighting, drawn by his face blurred in the moving water. In turn, I plunged my face into the water to join him. My body landed gently against his body and my cheek pressed against his face. I had not done any thinking, his presence was all that mattered. All was silence, and calm and… I started to run out of air! Don't be afraid, I repeated to myself as I clenched my fingers on his torso.

I was suddenly able to breathe because he had emerged from the water, pulling me with him. I threw my hair back and clung on to his neck. His breathing was slow in contrast with mine which was irregular. I couldn't think anymore, entrapped in a frightening torpor. He tried to undo my hold around his neck but I held fast. He moved his head back and faced me, the trouble prompted by his close presence gave way to a deep sense of unease. By his expression, you could have thought that I had betrayed him. Paralyzed in reaction to the shock, I let him get out of my arms and the tub, he grabbed a towel to dry himself.

"Well, since I'm already in the water, might as well have a shower!"

Pitiful attempt at putting an end to such a heavy moment. He didn't bother answering and wrapped the towel around his waist. I pulled the bathtub plug, opened my shirt, it was hard with my shaking fingers. He had long left the room when I found myself completely naked. I opened the faucets and closed the glass door in order not to add water to the floor which was already flooded. I scrubbed myself with soap and shampoo and it kept my mind busy enough for me to wind down. I wanted to forget what had just happened.

Out of the tub, I stepped on the bathmat and used it to soak up the water. Then I stood in front of the mirror and examined my changing body with a critical eye. My breast was getting heavier, it tingled, my waist was losing its shape, my hips were widening. A shiver ran through me, I opened the closet on my right, grabbed a towel to dry myself and wrapped myself in it. I let my hair air dry, the humidity made it wavy. There was a toothbrush on the sink, so I went in search of another one for me. The little cabinet under the sink held a treasure: hairbrush, hair drier, aftershave, toothpaste, razor, a manicure set and other toiletries including toothbrushes!

When I went back to the bedroom, I breathed better. Brody was kneeling on the floor, his hands on his thighs, his feet under him, as if to pray. Yet, he remained motionless staring at the TV where our two faces appeared here and there. I took the remote from his hand and turned off the damned thing. I noticed he had his clothes on, I searched the room with my eyes, saw an open travel bag and moved closer to see what was in it. There were a few basic clothing items like jeans and t-shirts. One for men and one for women. Was underwear optional? Who had prepared that fucking pack?

"What you're looking for is in the zippered side compartment."

At the sound of his voice, my heart starting racing despite myself.

"There is also a vanity case with some stuff for you."

He pointed at the coffee table, I saw the vanity case and also noticed that the tray was gone.

"While you were sleeping, I went to the car and found this, and also a map."

The map was spread out on the floor. It showed how to get to the safe house, no GPS, it was standard procedure. I walked around the map and rummaged through the vanity case. There were my medicines and vitamins, iron, folic acid and all that kind of things.

"Shit, what's all this?" I grumbled as a matter of principle. I appreciated the unexpected attentions, wherever they came from…

_Saul…_

"You should put your clothes on, you're going to catch a cold."

I was anything but cold when he was around.  
To contradict me, he stood up and reached for the door handle.

"Where are you going?"  
"I'm going to eat something."

I tried to invite myself but it was pointless, he was already gone. Far from the room, far from me, far from all kind of life. I hurled everything around me and covered my face with my hands, slumped on the floor and shaking with sobs.

* * *

More to come soon.


	3. Part 3

Thanks to **Terzima** for her support and her work of translation.

Thanks to **Lipamo, LilMisfit5290 and ****indigovioletstargazer**for their reviews and encouragements!

**Kym** : Thanks a lot!^^ Here is the next chapter.

Thanks too for your favorites and for following me (this sentence is my own translation, hoping there is no fault).

Enjoy your reading.

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A New Life

Part 3

* * *

I had dressed, cleaned up my mess, swallowed my tears and now I went downstairs to the dining room. I was a bit uncomfortable in my clothes, I had to think of getting myself a new wardrobe. I was barefoot, my feet didn't want to hear about shoes. The icy contact with the floor tiles of the living room made me freezing cold. Or was it the sight of Brody and his absent-minded look? He was eating actually, which was good news. He was alone: had he dismissed our hostess?

I hoped I had wiped away all traces of my weakness, I didn't want him to see me sad, it was something hard for him to deal with. I forced myself to suppress the pressure on my chest, braced myself and decided to join him. I could feel the smell of his food from where I was, my senses were sharpened: my senses of smell and taste were stronger. When I was near him, I noticed a second set of cutlery. A cloche covered the plate. Had he expected I would join him?

"It's taken you a long time."

I started at the sound of his weary voice. He kept on eating without so much as a glance and I sat quickly, my appetite expressed itself like a separate entity. If I continued like this, I would become obese! Whatever! I was starving!

I ate again greedily, I thought in a corner of my head that I should hire that woman to feed me _ad vitam aeternam._ At that precise moment, I loved her madly. I smiled at the incongruous thought but I lost my smile when I met Brody's neutral gaze.

"You definitely need to put on weight, you're skinny."

A bit offended, I didn't answer. Yes, I lost a few pounds following him halfway around the world to get him out of the trap we had put him in.

He took a napkin and stood up to dab my mouth and chin. Did I eat that clumsily?

"You eat too fast, it will get stuck in your throat."

I didn't listen to him, I was petrified by his lengthy dabbing. My insistent gaze unsettled him, he stopped and sat down, putting the napkin near his plate. He drank a glass of water and started to clear the table while ordering me to finish my food. There was wine on the table, I looked at the bottle with envy. Damn it, it was going to be hard to abstain from drinking alcohol!

"Don't even think about it!" he said, grabbing the untouched bottle.

I finished my main course, my cheese, my dessert within minutes, he was right, I ate too quickly but I wanted to be with him. He was in the kitchen, busy washing the dishes. I cleared what was left on the table and brought it to him. I leaned on my elbows not far from him, watching him openly. It could have been like we were living together, here, in that room. But we were not even close; actually, I had no clue what it was like to live with someone. I never thought I would want it one day. I was too overactive, too dependent on my independence, and too in love with my work.

Now, it was him that I loved, more than anything else on this earth. I felt again that little rubbing in my lower stomach. Was it to remind me that there was not only Brody? I slid my hand mechanically over my belly. I didn't really know what to make of that baby to come, I didn't know if I would love him or her: maternal instinct was a very unclear concept, particularly since my mother left.

"Are you all right?"

He was done with the dishes and leaned against the sink, watching me, worried. How could I share my fears with him?

"Do you think I'm going to be a good mother?"

I blurted out the words, I was astoundingly candid with him, I couldn't lie. Or rather, I didn't know how to lie any more. He inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"Why did you keep it?"

A bitter taste formed in my mouth when I realized what he was asking me, because I had questioned myself a lot about that in my down moments.

"Because this baby is a part of you."

And if I loved him, I could love "him or her", couldn't I?

He turned around and started to dry the dishes. His habit of keeping me wondering was frustrating, I closed up the distance between us and snatched the towel from his hands.

"Talk to me Brody!"

I forced him to look at me. A dark flicker hardened his irises.

"To say what? That this wasn't the life I wanted for you? You know that already," he sighed.

"It's my choice! My choice!"

"You're stubborn, as usual, but have you thought about it?"

"Yes, I have."

"Really thought about it? About the life you think you'll have? About the life you think you'll give it?"

It was as if he didn't intend to be part of it. I thought back to what happened in the bathroom and I began to run out of air. I couldn't answer, I didn't feel well.

He took the towel back and started wiping the dishes again before my confused eyes. I heard the steps of our hostess who was about to get in, I put on a mask and smiled to her as soon as she stepped in.

"Should have called me," she scolded us, pushing Brody away from the sink.

He complimented her on the dinner, at least that's what I figured out. She thanked him in her mother tongue. I wondered how a girl who seemed so nice could be living by herself. I stared intently at Brody, I wanted our conversation to continue, even if I wasn't good at it. Communicating on personal matters was a challenge for me. He wished her good night, I did the same and I followed him out of the room… except that he veered toward the entrance door. I started to follow him.

"You have no shoes on, Carrie."

He was outside already and turned around the house. I went up in our room to watch him from the window. I grumbled, I was angry. Damn it, Brody, don't reject me! I thought, pained. I knew he needed some fresh air so I sucked it up and decided to wait. I switched the TV on, flipped through the channels, and, after a few minutes, my jaw started dropping as I watched the screen. I was in shock.

After some twenty minutes – the time it took me to digest the news – I returned to my vantage point by the window. He had not moved an inch, my simmering mind calmed down just by looking at him. My adult life had been driven by loyalty, patriotism but also by lies, cruelty and indifference. But lies had prevailed and here, lying could not win, sheer truth was growing inside me, guided me and gave me strength. I contracted my fingers, I had a compulsive need to have him beside me. I slipped into my jacket to go and join him over there.

Stepping on the cold stones didn't bother me, the grass was cool and soft. I slumped by his side, dipping my feet into the water. It was lukewarm, strangely enough. He shook his head, irritated.

"You never give up, do you?"  
"You already know the answer."

I lay down, scanning the leaves in the trees, listening to their rustling, the lapping of the rivulet, enjoying the appearance of the first stars. I relaxed, in an abnormal state of euphoria. Hormones, I understood. I was sensitive, too sensitive, even more perceptive than usual.

"What choice do I have?" he finally asked me, his gaze lost on the horizon.  
"The choice to live and start it all over again."  
"I've already had a family, children and a wife, and now they hate me. Worse still, I'm dead for them."

I knew he was thinking of Dana in particular. An open, gaping wound that would never heal. I knew it. Should I tell him that it was now a fact, that we had been pronounced dead after a bombing during the attempted extraction? A single glance at him told me the answer was no. I took his hand on which he was leaning. He let me do it, and I put it on my stomach underneath my t-shirt.

"But we do love you," I said, determined.

He removed his hand as if he had received an electric shock. I took it back and placed it in its initial position.

"I felt it move," I confessed with emotion.

He looked at me over his shoulder. I held his gaze forcefully. I wanted to share my joy, my confidence with him, but also how insecure I was feeling. I needed him to be able to face such an uncertain future. Needed him to make the happiness that was close at hand become reality. Needed him not to lose my mind.

"We love you Brody, as you are. And you, do you love us?"

* * *

To be continued.


	4. Part 4

I thank **Terzima** for her support and her work of translation into English.

Thanks to** Benex**, **Lipamo, LilMisfit5290 and Bookworm1986 **for their reviews and encouragements!

This is a T-rated chapter and it took me forever to write it.  
Enjoy your reading.

* * *

A New Life

Part 4

* * *

_"We love you as you are, and you, do you love us?"_

The question hovered in the air, as if suspended. I was waiting anxiously for his answer, it was unbearable. His hand on my stomach, covered by my own hands, radiated a familiar and reassuring heat. He didn't turn around, he was focused on me, trying to tell me something without uttering a word. But I needed to hear it.

"I don't know what you feel any more. I'm not even sure to feel something."

My eyes left him to conceal my distress, I searched the dark sky for courage. I needed a great deal of it to admit I was heading for disaster.

He removed his hand and I didn't hold it back this time: he wanted to take some distance again. It was better actually. My sensitivity was so high that it could easily overflow and I didn't want to see him collapse when confronted to my pain.  
Against all odds, he lay down by my side, I could make out his profile. He brushed my cheek with his hand, applying a little pressure so that I would turn my face toward him. I let him guide me, his fiery fingers made me feverish. My eyes fluttered around him without really looking at him.

"I don't have much to offer you."

I turned so that I was facing him. His head was lying on his folded arm, I adopted the same position. His hand had left my cheek but it kept the mark of his touch.

"Of course you do!"

His eyebrows formed a V but I continued:

"You always refuse to open up because you're afraid to suffer and I can understand that, damn, yes, I get that! But I'm struggling and you're not helping me at all! I'm looking for the strength to keep both our heads above water and I won't be able to go on like this forever, Brody!"

I lowered my eyes.

"I'm scared," I confessed in a whisper.

I still felt that the dam holding back my pain was about to break and I wanted to hide it from him. He pulled me against him with his free arm which he put on my shoulder. I buried my face in his neck, breathing him in an audible relief. I felt him shudder while I relaxed. I slipped my arm around his waist.

We stayed like this for a long time, I relished the tenderness he gave me and that I had been deprived of. His hand lingered in my hair, then it slid down between my shoulder blades and stayed there.

"You didn't answer my question."  
"What question?"  
"Do you love us?"

Why did I keep pushing him like that?

He remained silent. I raised my head to face him again. His eyes were shining, his expression tried to hold something back. His hand gently continued its way down to the small of my back laid bare by my short t-shirt. The touch of his warm hand set me on fire, and I forgot all my interrogations. I closed my eyes, arching my back, hungry for his body. He reacted in turn, his hand pressing on me to put us closer. My mouth found his own like a radar, his other arm left his head and slipped under my face to close on the nape of my neck. He kissed me slowly, in contrast to the frantic passion of our bodies that were searching for one another. His kiss became so deep that I lost track of the universe. There were only me and him left.

Us.

I savored his specific taste. My arousal was intensely painful, made stronger by all the months spent without him. A tiny sense of guilt tarnished the moment when I remembered that pale clone met at some grocery store. He had satisfied the physical neediness but the wound on my heart had been left gaping. Only Brody could heal it, only Brody could make me happy.

His mouth shifted on my jaw, he thrust his hand under my jeans, under my panties, grabbing my butt. My desire became unbearable and threatened to explode while his tongue drew a fiery way on my throat. My hand found its way under his t-shirt, guessing each scar of his back. He made me tip over onto my back and fell down on me, by reflex I tensed up, I had something to protect. He felt it and froze, dampened. He stared at my belly, breathing fast. He let go of me, straightened up despite my protest.

"Let's go sleep."  
"I don't want to sleep!"  
"I'm tired."

He held out his hand to help me stand up. I caught him and tried to pull him toward me but he had anticipated my move. He yanked and I had no other choice but stand on my feet. He started to walk, convinced I would follow. Had I made a mistake? Would this child pull us apart? Was it one burden too many?

Inside the house, the lights were off, only the staircase lamp was twinkling. There was no sign of our hostess.

In the bedroom, he locked the door, took his jeans off and went into the bathroom. I rummaged through the bag, searching for nightclothes, to no avail. He came out and directly got in the bed.  
I turned the light off.  
The moon took over, lighting the room with its soft glow. I also went quickly to the bathroom, undressed completely and got into the crisp sheets. I was not ready to sleep but had too much pride to beg for his attention. I went through the episode near the rivulet again with hindsight.  
My face twisted, I was suffering more than ever.  
"You think I'm strong, but I'm not," I broke the silence. "Not when I'm carrying your child in your complete indifference."  
He didn't move an inch.  
"You know my feelings for you," I flared up madly at his inertia. "I opened up to you several times! I gave you all! All!"  
I had yelled the last words, my fists against my temples, furious and aching at the same time. He suddenly turned around, making me jump. He hauled himself above me, on his elbows not to impose his weight on me.  
"What about me? Didn't I give enough to this world?"

Anger? Was it what he was expressing? I blinked under the immensity of his gaze which was black in the dark room.  
I didn't answer, exhilarated by the sudden strength he projected. I circled his face with my hands, he caught one of my fists.  
"Answer me!"  
Anger made his voice shake, making it harsher, more manly, increasing my arousal.  
"What do you expect from me? Answer me!"

Right now, I wanted him to put an end to my agony. My mind was blurred with desire, I could hardly think. I tried to kiss him, wriggling like an eel, thirsting. Without warning, he got rid of the barrier that was between us and took me brusquely. I tensed up, not in pain but in stress. Not like that. Not like that.

"Not like that," I was able to utter to bring him to reason.

It was not the same passion. I couldn't define what was going on but I didn't want to deal with it. I pushed him back vigorously, he resisted, letting out a long groan, indifferent to my refusal, then slumped on his side.

My heart was beating up to my temples. I heard him turn over. Lying on my back, I watched the ceiling, the dark and moving shapes created by the moon. I wanted to forget about the dampness between my legs, the frustration of unsatisfied and denied desire. I wanted to forget my mistakes, forget my actions, forget my love. I wanted to forget my pregnancy, forget Brody.  
But it was impossible.  
I felt a heavy pressure on my chest. A moan left my lips and I couldn't help it. I got out of bed and went into the bathroom. In the dark, I can't tell how long I stayed standing against the sink before groping my way into the bathtub. I wanted to erase all traces of that inappropriateness. I couldn't find any other word to define what had just happened. Once I was done, I allowed myself to cry under the stream of tepid water, thus my tears would go unnoticed.

When I went back to bed, I knew he was asleep. I snuggled up against his back – it was where I wanted to be and nowhere else – closed my eyes and sank into sleep, exhausted from crying.

I woke up with a start, confused. Was it daylight? Yes, but the thick curtains had been pulled to soften the light. Brody was there, turned toward me, his eyes locked in mine. Everything came back to my mind, it made my breathing heavier. I mechanically ran my hand over my mouth to make sure I had not drooled in my sleep.  
"I'm sorry," he whispered.  
It was audibly and painfully sincere. And his face was an open book. My chin quivered, so did my lips, but I didn't want to fall apart before him.  
"Don't worry."  
I tried to act it cool, unconcerned. He was not fooled.  
"I didn't mean to hurt you."  
" You didn't."  
"Carrie – " he sighed.  
My head shifted to the side.

I was being stupid to continue with my little drama act. He was trying to communicate and this time, I was the one who refused the opportunity. He pushed aside the part of the sheet that was between us to get closer, laying me bare at the same time. I started to put the sheet back on me but he stopped me, scrutinizing each part of my body. It was as if he had flipped a switch. His heavy gaze brutally rekindled my desire. He brushed against my neck, my clavicle, one of my breasts. My chest heaved as if under an electric shock. His fingers worked their way around my belly, stroked my waist, my hip, my thigh and finally my knee. He stopped his exploration and I tried to know why. The blue of his eyes was luminous, aphrodisiac. I didn't know how to breathe anymore.

My tension exploded when finally his fingers slipped between my thighs. I squeezed them convulsively in an experimental rubbing. I bit my lips not to scream while pleasure mounted uninvited, making all my erogenous zones jerk until I reached orgasm.

He laid his head on my chest while I unclenched my thighs, my body limp.  
I had known sexual pleasure under various forms but this one was new to me. It had been unexpected and powerful, as powerful as my love for him. I loved him so much that his simple touch, his scent, the texture of his skin triggered a rapturous delight.

"We've got to go," he told me.  
He was right. Reality caught up with me with a boomerang precision.  
"I'll go and get something for you to eat, get yourself ready."  
He was already out of bed, pulling on his jeans. His gestures were mechanical, unconvinced. Was he suddenly scared like I was scared? He cleared up the map, our stuff that was on the floor, the bag.  
"Brody?" I called him urgently.  
"Yes?"  
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, ridiculously wrapped up in the sheet. I held out my hand. He came nearer without hesitation and opened up his arms for me.  
"It will be fine."  
His words had the intended effect: I felt better, safe, enfolded in his arms.

* * *

More to come soon.


	5. PART 5

Thanks to **Terzima** for her support and comments (and her translation job!)

Thanks to **Lipamo and Bookworm 1986 **for their reviews and encouragements!  
Thanks to you, anonymous readers.  
This is a slightly different chapter.  
Enjoy your reading.

* * *

A New Life

Part 5

* * *

**BRODY**

We had been traveling for a while, I was looking at the road without seeing it.

Carrie was driving, not saying a word either. Her hands were tight on the steering wheel. So tight that her knuckles were white, an obvious sign of stress.

I was beginning to know her even if at times she would unsettle me. I don't know what had attracted me in her. Was it that fissure inside her? (Were we linked by the same malaise?) Or was it that unyielding strength and will? Despite her illness, she never turned back, always went for it, sometimes forgetting about herself along the way. She didn't tolerate cowardice and even less disloyalty. I still wondered how she had found something she could love in me.

She glanced at the map at regular intervals, I was her co-pilot so that she could keep her eyes on the road as much as possible. I felt she was absent-minded – absent-minded and sad.

To confirm my thoughts, a tear started falling on her cheek; she wiped it away at once as if to hide it from me, but it didn't change anything to the fact that it was killing me to see her that way despite all her efforts at putting on a brave face. I was responsible for her misery. I turned my head and rubbed my face to erase that nightmare, but it was reality.

"I'm sorry Brody."  
"What for?"  
"I know you don't like to see me crying but – "  
Her tears intensified, intensifying my despair.  
"I was thinking of my father and sister – "

One more thing I was responsible for: her isolation. She was deprived of those she loved, those who had always taken care of her better than I would ever be able to. I was unable to give her back one-tenth of all she gave me. She was the one keeping my head above water. I tried to hold on for her, because she seemed to care about it more than she cared about her own life (I shivered when I thought about it) but as soon as I closed my eyes, life appeared unlivable to me.

She swerved. I grabbed the steering wheel to keep the car going straight. I put my hand on hers to draw her attention.  
"Stop."  
"No, it's okay."  
"Stop!" I ordered this time.

She pulled over to the side of the road. She laid her head on the back of her seat and her eyelids locked. Her breathing was jerky, she was fighting not to give in to the anguish that was seizing her. It was not the first time I had seen her do it, she was constantly fighting her inner demons (one more thing we both shared). I took her hand instinctively, she held on mine fiercely, in a violent attempt at taking some of the strength I had in me, so I gave her what I had, the little I had. It seemed to be enough because after a long minute, she calmed down and opened her lost eyes. She focused on the horizon then allowed herself to glance at me. Her face expressed embarrassment and some gratitude.

It was hard to show the way we were, to accept that someone else would see us in a state of weakness. However, we were able to do it with one another. Like a sincerity pact, without the make-believe that had hurt us.

With her free hand, she tucked her hair behind her ear, another sign of stress. She let go of my hand, it was sore, and white where her fingers had gripped me. The blood started to circulate again and it prickled but I barely noticed. Instead, I slipped my hand on her thigh.

"Do you want me to drive?"  
"No, I need to keep my mind busy."  
"Are you sure?"

She offered a tentative smile as a yes. She was already coming out of that moment of anguish, I envied that ability she had.

We stop to comply with her natural needs, and two hours later, we were approaching the French border. In the middle of the Black Forest, we arrived in Freiburg. It was a visually pleasant place, quite animated, strangely familiar. We went around in the town instead of passing through it.

"What are you looking for?"  
"A pharmacy. I've got a headache."

She was a little pale. I offered to go by foot, she hesitated and _in extremis_, pulled over in a parking space that had just been made available. When I got out of the car, it was obvious she also wanted to come.

"Don't worry, I won't be long," I reassured her.

I needed to breathe the air of the town, to merge with the crowd for a moment to suppress that sensation of being abnormal. Terror was there, lying low inside me, it could leap out any time, I knew it, I had been living with it for months, years. Yet, mingling with the crowd seemed to be the remedy to that agoraphobia.

She hesitated, I could see clearly the ramifications of her scattered thoughts that she tried to tie back to one another. She was looking for a way to tell me about her fear of letting me go but her new condition created confusion in her mind. Her pregnancy changed the way she was and the way she dealt with things.

I held out my hand, she gave me a few euros and I shut the door. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my head and walked randomly but keeping my point of return in sight. She was my landing point, my anchor in the world. She needed me, she had clearly told me so the night before.

The night before…

I didn't want to think back on it.

I had trouble integrating the fact that she had the result of our closeness inside her. An unexpected closeness, intense and genuine. I had believed in it. Yes, I had believed in her love for me and in my ability to reciprocate. I had believed I would be able to overcome the uncertainties that went with that new me modeled by a man for whom I had given up all reservations. He had known how to rekindle my faith, a faith long lost when I was a prisoner. But he had only locked me up in another jail. He made me believe that that faith was my redemption and I was in a quest for reconstruction.

Now I didn't know any more whether I was allowed to follow that spiritual route, and it was a cruel privation. It was all the more contradictory that it was also what had led to my downfall and the consequences were countless. Many collateral damages had followed, starting with my family. What was their life like now? What did they know about my recent actions? Anyway, it wouldn't change a thing. Shame would be part of their lives forever. And Dana –

Oh Dana –

I slowed down to abate the pain of the lacerations on my heart. I had been a horrible father, and my daughter had wanted to put an end to her life. I had felt the same need, and it meant that she had suffered beyond words.

And Carrie wanted me to start it all over again! What was she thinking? I should be mad at her, sometimes I was. It was already hellish to have drawn her into this dead end life, but now there was another life at stake. She claimed it was her choice but she was not rational, she couldn't be and bear this innocent baby at the same time. Did she realize the life that was awaiting us? A life? No, the pretense of a life.

Her worried face appeared before me, she was also scared. Scared of my letting her down, or rather, my giving up. Did she really think I would be able to support her in this situation that was new to her?

We love you Brody.

How long? When this runaway life weighs too much upon them, what will happen? When this child discovers what I've done, what will be his or her reaction? They will blame me for wasting their lives and they will hate me. And this – no, I couldn't go through this one more time. To love and be rejected like a monster afterwards. No – never again. I had learnt from my mistakes. Destroying me was one thing, destroying those I loved was something else entirely.

This was also the reason why I stayed away from love, it was an emotion that burned me down as soon I attempted an approach.

I had resumed my walk, easily locating what I was looking for. In a pharmacy, I stood in line, head down. It was almost an act of everyday life but it seemed unreal. Since Langley, it had only been escape, loneliness, descent into hell, manipulation and lies. I clenched my fists. This anger came back in fits and starts, balancing my morale weakened by the shadows of the souls of the people I had killed. I fed on it like a starving man on a loaf of bread. It regenerated me, enabled me to think and see that this fucking life was garbage. And that I was nothing more than a puppet that had been sacrificed.

Blood was pounding in my temples, I was more alert, more alive. This flame of life only lit up when I was angry or in Carrie's arms. I liked being in her arms, I liked hearing her heart beating, feeling her body tremble, breathe the scents of her hair.

I blinked and all my anger was gone. In front of me, a young woman was staring at me. I tensed up, on the defensive, before realizing that she was only waiting for me to tell her why I was there.

The walk back was quicker, I was anxious to be with Carrie. I suddenly stopped to enter a flower shop. I counted the coins that were left in my hand and I paced among the stalls to choose a single flower. I wanted one as unconventional as Carrie. I stopped in front of a sunflower. It was high and fragile, bright with its vivid yellow, shedding light on me like a sun. Like Carrie. It was also dark in its center, reminding me of how harsh and demanding she could be. I lost myself in the observation of her exact flower representation.

The florist broke me out of my daydreaming, and I paid for the flower.

When I reached the car, I felt stupid all the more so as she was pacing up and down in obvious distress. She stopped when she saw me and remorse hit me hard in the gut, I had taken too long. She stared at the sunflower, I handed it to her and after a moment of puzzlement, her lips stretched into a smile filled with wonder.

"How nice of you," she said simply.

It was as if she had never been offered flowers before. She hugged me in an affectionate embrace which transfered some warmth into me. Time froze, everything appeared so simple and so clear.

"There you go, I've found some paracetamol for you."

She grabbed the whole package.

"Thank you."

"I'll drive," I decided.

She nodded and sat down on the passenger side. There was a bottle of water in the glove box. She swallowed a tablet and sighed while enjoying the fragrances of the sunflower. There was no trace of fear or sadness left in her. That curious well-being that had characterized her since our reunion was back, she radiated confidence and it was contagious. Her hand settled on mine on the gear lever. It was soothing. She guided us until our final destination, only about twenty or twenty-five kilometers north of Freiburg. The houses got scarce, the heath got thicker, and the forested landscape summoned other memories. I instinctively liked the place. And I smiled as our safe house appeared before us. I didn't need to look at Carrie to know she was also smiling.

This safe house looked like the cabin.

* * *

More to come soon.


	6. Part 6

Thanks to **cactuscorsage, bookworm1986, Lilmisfit5290 **and **Lipamo** for their amazing reviews.

Thanks to **Terzima** (you know how I love your job!)

We're staying with Brody for now.

Enjoy your reading.

* * *

A New Life

Part 6

* * *

**BRODY**

The following morning

I opened my eyes at dawn, awakened by the sounds of nature around. Carrie was asleep in her own corner, her back toward me, completely uncovered. I could see the bare nape of her neck. She had been restless for part of the night, it was reassuring to see her at peace. I went to the kitchen, not very big like the rest of the house. I helped myself to a glass of orange juice. We had the surprise to find food of all kind, a closet full of clothes and toiletries. It was a welcoming place; it was not how I imagined a safe house. I went outside to get some fresh air after donning sweatpants, my sneakers and my hooded sweatshirt. The car was parked behind the house.

I walked down the front steps and gained momentum to run a little. I had not exercised for a while. My body seemed to come to life again, I enjoyed the contact of my steps on the ground that crackled because of the scattered leaves and twigs. The sun was low, the weather was cool. I felt safe among the plentiful trees. My mind empty, I only breathed to feed oxygen to my body to give impetus to my muscles.

I didn't know how long I ran, there was a moment when I had to turn around. The closer I got to the safe house, the more problems tried to force their way. I had slept better despite Carrie's kicks. I had been to bed early the night before, and she had done the same. It was hard for her to stay away from me. I was her landmark as she was mine. Once in bed, she had watched me, keeping for herself things she died of telling me. She knew when I was in the mood for talking or not. And it was not the case. She had fallen asleep before me. She lacked sleep. She lacked weight and care. She had neglected herself. And her condition didn't help.

One more time, a leaden shroud crashed on my chest.

A baby –

I saw her before she saw me, sitting on one of the steps, looking lost. I slowed down then walked to meet her, she had already stood up and was waiting for me to come to her. I could see she was making efforts to give me some space, she was _swaying from one foot__ to __another, pulling her cardigan closer_around_her, concealing the shoulder strap of her pajama top._

"You got up early," she said simply.  
"I needed to run a little."  
"You must be hungry?"  
"A little."  
"Let's get some breakfast."

She was already entering the house, she was barefoot. She liked being barefoot these days. I took my shoes off at the entrance from habit. Sitting at the counter she was using as a worktop, I watched her prepare the food.

"Need some help?"  
"No. Let me do it."

She had slept, yet she still had dark rings under her eyes. Her disheveled hair added to her tired look.

"Did you take your vitamins?"  
"Oh! Uh – I'll do it."

She was a bit agitated – it contrasted with her physical appearance – and it made her clumsy. I observed her open the gas cylinder with a watchful eye, put eggs on a pan to fry. She rummaged in the fridge, came back, returned to the fridge. She opened all the cupboards and shut them a little too swiftly.

"Did you take your medicines?"  
"Yeah, yeah."

Curiously, she avoided my gaze, and it raised my suspicion. It was not the way she usually acted – quite the opposite, actually, her blue eyes tended to force their way through the gate of mine. I went into the bedroom, grabbed the vanity case found in the sports bag and put it on the counter, in the middle of her jumble. She stared at it with wide, annoyed eyes.

"Fuck, Brody!"  
"I don't know what you're brooding about, but it's no reason not to remain focused. Take your medicines."

She frowned in my direction. It was not a good sign.

"Please."

She gazed at me carefully, doubts showing on her face. I had seen many times that expression on her face when she suspected me of various things, real or not. Trust had been hard to build for either of us. And even if I had blind confidence in her now, I was unable to say if she was feeling the same.  
Her trembling fingers were laid on the edge of the counter. She contracted them to stop the shaking. I saw the change take place. I saw her resign herself. I was puzzled. Yet, I pushed back all negative feelings once the pills were in her mouth.

"Now, that's better."

She sniffed in disdain then resumed what she was doing. I had the impression of being a few months back in time, before everything fell apart. Maybe things could have gone smoothly then; but there had been Langley – and a succession of horrible events that had weakened my faith, my humanity.

"Ready!"

I returned to the present time. This frail woman was a force of nature, the light at the end of my tunnel. Yet, I was unable to reach that light. I remained motionless, watching her cautiously because she tended to irradiate to attract me to her. I could still let go, merge with Carrie, but the separation had been too dreadful, I had broken down into pieces as I had drawn away from her, as I had realized we would never see each other again.

She sat next to me on the high bar stool and set herself to swallow the food heaping up before her apparently in a pre-established order.

"You have a good appetite these days," I pointed out.  
"It's the baby," she uttered between two mouthfuls without even glancing at me.  
"Now, that's a good excuse," I couldn't help laughing, "at this rate – "

She suspended her gesture, her fork in mid-air, glaring at me. I also suspended my sentence, the remnant of a smile frozen on the corner of my mouth.

"What?"  
"Finish your sentence."

I raised my eyebrows, surprised by her dry tone. She could be touchy at times, I remembered.

"I was just saying that, at this rate, he or she will be in great shape," I lied shamelessly.  
"Yeah, right," she replied sarcastically.

She focused on her food again, I noticed the jerk of her mouth. She was holding back a smile. Then her attention shifted on something else, she was staring at the sunflower that had pride of place in a high vase, near the fridge.

"Do you like sunflowers?" I asked her with interest.  
"No. Well, I don't know. I've never been into flowers much. It's an unusual choice, why not a rose?  
"Too common, the sunflower is more like you."

She focused on me again, her head leaning forward, her hair dunking in the scrambled eggs on her plate. I held out my hand to pull her hair back but she caught it and put her cheek against it. She smiled broadly.

"You'll think I'm being mawkish but I like it when you care about me and my well-being."

I didn't answer, baffled as usual by the candor she could display sometimes.

"I often tend to neglect myself, but this time, I'm making efforts, I assure you, I take this all very seriously. But –"

Happiness was gone, tears were filling her eyes, lessening their impact on me. She quickly shifted from laughter to tears, it was disconcerting.

"What's wrong? Is it your family again?"  
"They'll never see this baby. My father will never know that he is a grandfather. He thought that with some effort, I could live a normal life, he would have been happy to see that I've been able to find the man of my life and start a family. "

She was emotional and didn't hide it, I envied her sometimes, I would have liked to express more things. I didn't pick up on what she had just said, too stunned by the importance she gave me. I had to try and raise her spirits.

"In a while, maybe you'll be able to get in touch with your father –"

"They think we're dead, Brody! All of us!"

I recoiled, stunned by her words, trying to make sense of them.

"What are you talking about?"

She gave me my hand back and decided to gaze at her plate.

"Carrie?"

She remained silent.

"CARRIE!"

She jumped when my fist slammed near her plate. I immediately regretted losing my temper, I didn't want to stress her out, but I definitely needed some explanation.

"I heard it on the news."

And she gave me a detailed account of the grim staging organized by our government. My stomach twisted, thankfully, I hadn't had anything to eat.

"Well, at least, things are clear now," I scoffed bitterly, "what a relief for my family."  
"Is it?"

I scrutinized her with anger, her tears had dried up. She was regaining her usual analytical temperament, hanging tough. She slid the stool nearer.

"Do you really think your family is happy that you're dead?"  
"Happy, no, but relieved, yes."  
"They loved you, they have to be sad."

I knew what she was trying to do while her hands encircled my face, but she wouldn't succeed. She was wrong. She was wrong. The stitches holding each of my wounds were snapping one by one.

"No," I refused to listen to her, "no, no, no."

I pushed her hands back and went into the bedroom. I undressed in a few seconds and got into the bathroom. In the shower, the tepid stream of water was feeble.  
I was feeling as bad when I stepped out of it.

The day went by without any more words, I barely ate, slept a little, prepared some wood for the fireplace. The night arrived, she ate by herself, waited for me to come to bed, when I saw she was waiting, I went to bed too. She slipped between the sheets, watched me while I was taking my tee-shirt off, putting on pajama pants, they looked a bit like hers, made of checkered cotton. Once comfortable, I pretended to take one of the books laid down unsorted near the bed. I skimmed a few pages but didn't understand anything. Her heavy stare unsettled me. I finally relaxed since she didn't speak and fell asleep. I put the book down to do the same. I turned off the lamp.

Her sleep was troubled again, now, I knew why. She also suffered from the situation even if it wasn't for the same reasons. I rubbed her back, her arms, whispering reassuring words. It was effective, she calmed down. She mumbled a few words:  
"Don't be angry, don't let me down."

I was part of her fears, too. I kept on reassuring her until she went back to sleep. Her being there was a peace haven. I had no nightmares, but I dreamed –

_"Dad?"  
Dana was standing in front of me, reaching out for me.  
"I was so worried, where were you?"  
My heart was mended, and it overflowed with love. I reached out for her too. As we were drawing nearer, she was getting younger. She was eight by the time my hand touched hers. I yanked for fear she would vanish. She collided with me, and embraced me with her frail arms. _

"_Where's Chris?" I asked her.  
"With mom, behind us."  
I turned round. They were there indeed, frowning, their faces inscrutable. They were staring at Dana in my arms.  
"Why are they looking at me like this?"  
I didn't recognize Dana's voice. I stiffened when I saw a two or three-year-old little girl with curly blond hair and blue eyes in her place.  
"Dad? Daddy?"  
You could see fear on her face.  
"Daddy, I'm scared."  
I held her tight against me.  
"Don't worry, Daddy's here, he will watch over you."  
I turned slightly, Chris, Dana and Jessica were walking away and becoming nothing but a dot in the distance.  
_  
I woke up suddenly. Carrie was gone. I went outside and around the house, the car was gone too. As my heart started to race, I took a deep breath and stayed there to wait. My interrogations only lasted five minutes, I heard the sound of an engine. She got out of the car with a bag full of stuff under her arm.

"I'm sorry I sneaked away."  
"I'd have preferred to go with you."

I realized that her disappearance had worried me immensely.

"I think it's better not to go anywhere, even less the two of us together."  
She circled the nape of my neck with her arm, holding me against her. She kissed my cheek.  
"You're still angry?" she asked apprehensively in my ear.

"What have you got?" I eluded.

She handed me the bag with a sigh, I quickly went through its contents while we were going back inside. There were some candies, bread, even an English newspaper. There was also a book – where the heck did she get it! – I took it to read the title: "Nine Months, How to Live Our Pregnancy." There was a caricature of a man and a woman, the first holding the second – her back toward him – in his arms. I suddenly broke into a sweat. She grabbed it and went and sat on the couch near the fireplace. It took me several minutes to stop gawking at her like a dimwit. She was so focused, searching for answers, that she didn't notice my inertia.

I put the bag on the counter, decided to make breakfast to keep busy.  
She came once to take a chocolate bar and then returned on the couch. I only realized then that she was wearing a blue dress, a dress!

After the initial shock, I scrutinized her thoroughly. The stretch fabric fitted her forms, you couldn't miss her condition. I felt guilty to linger over her cleavage, her legs that were folded under her, to find her so desirable, more than she had ever been. Her eyes crossed mine, the chocolate bar still in her mouth, triggering a devastating fire that I couldn't conceal. I realized vaguely that she was blushing. I forced myself to resume what I was doing. I heard her stand up, place herself behind me. Her mouth fluttered on my bare back, her kisses were like tiny electric shocks.

A burning smell jolted me back to reality, I jumped toward the frying pan.

"Shit!"

I groaned, groaned and groaned again. It was a way to express my frustration. How could I do it? How could I get closer to her without being resentful? I dropped everything in the sink, furious. I bent over it, my breath was ragged. I still had too much anger in me but it was better than sinking because of my desolated soul. My past was a tall wall of pain that I tried to push into the background. And anger helped, except that at that precise moment, I wanted something else.

"Brody?"

She was back on the couch. She always used a specific tone when she called me. It was always full of urgency. There was nothing I could do but walk up to her. As soon as I sat down, she squeezed up against me, threw the book far away. It fell on the floor with a thump.

"We'll make it, won't we?"

I stroked her hair without a word, thinking back on the little blond girl of my dream.

* * *

More to come soon.


	7. PART 7

We remain with Brody for this chapter too. I improvised some elements of his past.  
Thanks **LilMisfit5290** for your review!^^

**Lipamo**: you know how happy I am each time I read your reviews. Hoping you will enjoy this new chapter.

Thank you **Terzima** for your amazing translation job!  
This is a longer chapter, I was inspired.

Enjoy your reading.

* * *

A New Life

Part 7

* * *

BRODY

Two weeks later

Carrie had just fallen asleep. She had been strangely passive during the past two weeks. This was not the Carrie I knew. I watched over her for a long time, a bit like a treasure, concerned. I was slowly getting used to her constant presence. And going to bed at night by her side, at the same time, had become a ritual that I was looking forward to in the daytime since it took on the official nature of our relationship as a couple.

We were a couple, or at least, we tried to be. Communication was hard to establish, and it was clearly my responsibility. But even though I knew it, I stood firm.

I fell asleep too. The blond little girl haunted my dreams again, like every night, creating a sensation of uneasiness each time I woke up. But this time, something else roused me from my sleep, it was still dark. Carrie was twitching in the bed with muffled moans. I turned on the light and found her sitting, one leg folded and her pajama pants rolled up to the knees, massaging her calf.

"A cramp," I guessed.

She looked at me, her face wore a mask of pain and tiredness, she seemed to be expecting something from me. Support? Actions? Help? I opted in favor of the third hypothesis.  
I forced her to lie down.  
"I'll do it."

I cautiously laid her leg flat on the bed, setting her foot upright – pointing her toes towards her – to stretch and relieve the muscle. After several back and forth movements, she relaxed, a sign that pain was subsiding. She tried to keep her eyes open, but her eyelids fluttered.  
"Go back to sleep."  
"Don't stop," she muttered before sinking into sleep.

I complied, massaging softly her aching calf for a few more minutes.

OoooO

I woke up early, anyway we would go to bed with the chickens because Carrie badly needed sleep. Dawn was breaking, I went into the living-room, unable to sleep any further. I paced back and forth, looking for something to do. There was no TV, no computer, nowhere to hang around. It was not that bothersome, I was used to living on little but right now, I needed to keep my mind busy. So I decided to do some cleaning, it was hardly a luxury since Carrie was messy and not inclined to do household chores.

I picked up some of her stuff, noticed that the laundry basket was overflowing in the bathroom. I swept the floor. Under the sofa, I hit something; searching with my hand, I exhumed Carrie's pregnancy book. Instead of placing it on the coffee table, I sat on the sofa and started to leaf through it, first with skepticism, then with growing interest as I read further in the book. I recognized some "symptoms" like an increased appetite, fatigue, heightened sensitivity – ah, and the cramps! There were other points that didn't sound like a lot of fun. I hoped she would get through it all, knowing her, I was not sure she would accept all those limitations.

I had not really taken an interest in Jess's pregnancies. Thinking about her didn't trigger the pain I expected, only an unpleasant pang but it was bearable. I knew what was the reason for this change, for my lessened distress. My gaze lost itself on the wall in front of me, and virtually passed through it to behold the person sleeping in the bed. Everything seemed different here, and the possibility of a new beginning was becoming a reality, like a parallel life. Could I erase what I had lived? Could I, in my soul and conscience, seize the opportunity that I was offered? I felt like I would be betraying myself if I denied the rest. But if I didn't do it, how could I move forward? I didn't want to forget my children, but thinking about them was delving into a bottomless abyss.

I continued reading not to dwell on memories. Some points about dads-to-be were dealt with. And it was all rather meaningful. Actually, it was even sometimes surprisingly reassuring.

Daytime was there for good, I was still reading. As I allowed myself to imagine other possibilities, my heart was decompressing. Because imagining was something I could do without taking risks. For instance, imagining a name for that little girl.

Yes, a little girl, that's what I saw, and I felt confusedly that it was what I wanted if I allowed myself to live that new life: a little girl as blond and pretty as her mother. I had the impression I knew her already, she tried to speak to me each time I dreamt of her, asking me what I felt about her and about her mother. I wanted so much to tell them I loved them, but the words remained stuck, my lips were sealed with glue.

My heart pounded, resonating in my temples like a gong, reminding me of precise moments of my existence; that's what I had felt every time I had taken a life: the blood boiling in my skull, my hands sweaty and my mouth dry, and the brutal acknowledgement that I was lying to myself if I believed I was within my rights.

Was it the sign that I was forbidden what I wanted to foresee? The lump in my throat grew so big that I could hardly breathe. I had to get some fresh air.  
No sooner was I outside than the cold seized me and had the effect I wanted. I searched the sky for something but I didn't know what it was. I suddenly remembered my father, what would he think of me if I shirked my responsibilities? He would surely turn over in his grave. He died young, a little while before I left for Afghanistan. An abrupt and senseless loss. I regretted not having any siblings. Maybe that was why I had dreamt of a large family from an early age but Jessica had quickly sobered me up. It was not what she wanted.

Thinking back on it, there were a lot of things she didn't want and, as the years went by, the gap had widened and become a gulf after my imprisonment and the eight years of my absence. I had said good-bye to that part of my life, I mean, the romantic part. Could I reasonably believe I could repeat the experience with Carrie?

Had I earned the right to love again? Did I want it actually? I was good at not answering the question despite Carrie's efforts to drive me there. Loving implied opening up, giving yourself, and suffering. Did I have enough courage to admit I desperately wanted to protect myself out of sheer cowardice? Yes, it was cowardly to hide myself behind my problems, ugly to take without giving in return, and God knew how Carrie gave me and how I helped myself. Sparingly, yes, but nonetheless I was robbing her, purely and simply. I stole her love to exist, to be different, not to hate my own reflection in a mirror anymore.

Here I was now: Unable to move in a specific direction. Unable not to move. I was swaying dangerously. Either I took a step forward or I fell.

To put an end to my introspection, I was tempted to go running, that's how I always dealt with my stress. On the way that I started to know by heart, I drank in the landscape. I loved the place, isolation didn't bother me, I had spent so much time far from everything, I was used to it. But what about Carrie? Would she put up with such a monotonous life? Were we destined to stay here or would we have to leave again?

One hour later, I was back, more serene. I had had time to think and had come up with the idea of a hike. I walked past the house and took the map in the car.  
I met Carrie who was sitting at the counter, with a bowl of milk and toasts in front of her.  
Gloomy.  
She showed almost no reaction when I got in. I sat on the other stool with the map in my hand.  
"Hi."  
"Hi."  
"Are you okay?"  
"There's almost nothing left to eat," she was brooding.  
"So I noticed. Do you want me to go get something?"

I knew she would say no, so I was surprised when she agreed. I didn't like seeing her like this, fatalistic, unconcerned. She hadn't gone anywhere in two weeks. It was time for a change. I spread the map on the counter, pushing her bowl away.

"How about going for a walk somewhere?" I suggested.

She cast a casual glance at the map.

"Look."  
I put my finger on the map and carefully traced the details of the surrounding area. Apparently, there were other houses, distant and scattered for sure, but they were there. I also noticed a lake, which filled me with enthusiasm.

"We could go there."  
"I'm tired."  
"I know, but we'll walk slowly, and it will be a change of scenery."  
"I don't know – "

She pushed the map and took her bowl to dip a toast, not really excited.

"You know what? I'll go shopping, you get ready, I'll prepare a picnic, and there we go! We'll do a small hike."  
"It's too far."  
"Carrie – "  
"No."

Disappointed, I didn't insist. I went and got ready, stuffed our dirty clothes in the sports bag and grabbed the car keys.

"There's some money in the envelope in the glove box," she told me. "Don't be long."

OoooO

It was a luxury to go back to civilization, I knew it. So I stayed near Freiburg. I pushed the cap further down on my head and lowered the peak to hide my eyes. I stopped a passer-by to ask her about a Laundromat. She couldn't tell me but showed me the way to the nearest convenience store. It was more expensive than a larger supermarket but so much for that.

I strolled down the produce aisle, taking as much as I could. I went around the store, grabbing various items at random. I hesitated in front of the candies, she seemed to like them. I didn't stop in the wine, beer and alcoholic beverage section. I had nothing against them but I didn't want to tempt her. I felt she was walking on a tightrope like a funambulist and I was the pole keeping her in balance.

I asked the cashier about the Laundromat. She gave me directions to one a few yards from there. I thanked her with a smile and averted my eyes, stressed by her careful attention. I put the errands in the bags and paid quickly to hurry myself out. I glanced over my shoulder but she wasn't paying attention anymore.

I spent one hour at the Laundromat. There was no one there, so I waited quietly, brooding over Carrie's refusal to change air. I didn't want to force her so better to deal with it.

What a surprise it was then when I found her ready to go. She had put sneakers and a gray tracksuit on, tied her hair up in a ponytail, showing her ears – she usually hid them. She was undecided, wavering between "let's go" and "I'm not sure". I handed her the sports bag.

"Hang out the laundry, I'll make the sandwiches."

I could have done it but I wanted her to keep busy and not think too much and change her mind.

OoooO

We walked past the house, past the car, toward the east. The lake was about 2 or 3 miles away. I carried the heavy backpack. The air was mild, it was fall season. The sky was pleasant, of a cloudy blue, showing through the trees hiding the sun. The leaves rustled in the wind, the place was the essence of nature, of life.

I felt good.

My hand searched for her hand, my fingers locked with her fingers. I sensed her insistent gaze.

"If you're tired, let me know, okay?"

She nodded.

We walked in silence, peacefully, for an hour. At about one pm, we arrived at the lake. It was green and brown, reflecting the similarly colored woods around. It was a heavenly sight. I opened the backpack, unrolled a plaid and let myself fall, happy. I pulled her arm so that she would join me.

"See, we were right to come."

On the other side of the shore, some people had also planned a picnic. I handed her a tuna-mayo-pickle sandwich, she recoiled, holding her nose.  
"What's in there?"  
"Tuna, mayonnaise and pickles."  
"I hate tuna now, yuck."  
"Shit!"  
"What? Don't tell me that's all you have?". She grabbed the backpack, panic stricken.  
"Bacon-mayo-pickles?" I tried.  
She accepted the wrapped package I took out of the bag, suddenly invigorated.  
"I'll have those with the tuna, you'll have the bacon."  
"It's a deal."

We ate our food in soothing quietness. Then I searched the bag for a bottle of water.  
"I've also bought bananas and – "  
"I don't like bananas."

No luck.

Seeing how crestfallen I looked, she had her first tender gesture in several days, brushing my cheek with her hand.  
"It's okay," she said. "It was nice of you to try and please me. It's just – "

She looked for words, staring at her hands. She let out a slow sigh.

"I don't feel well."  
"And how long will it last?"  
"I'm all right you know, I mean, compared to how I usually feel, I think it's not that bad, your being with me is important."  
"It doesn't look like it."  
"Oh really?" she regretted, running quickly her fingers up and down on my face, my skull. "I'm serious, I'm not sure I could make it without you."

She put her arms around my neck, visibly clinging on to me. It rang alarm bells.

"Do you take your medication?"  
"Yeah, but it's not the same, it's lighter, almost nonexistent. It was okay, I knew I had to manage –"  
"Why didn't you tell me?" I scolded her.  
"I didn't want to bother you with my fucked up brain issues – and I know my pregnancy doesn't make you happy."

She burst into tears, burying her face in my neck, squeezing me tighter. Her sorrow was audible, it pierced my heart. I had to find a way to reassure her even though she was right in a way. I was working on it, on the possibility of reconstructing a family.

"I'm worried Carrie, that's all, I'm not very supportive, and I know you're lonely. You need to see a doctor, and you're stuck with me here, and you can't be followed properly. And this is another burden I don't want to bear. I don't want anything to happen to you or to your mini-you."

She stepped back briskly to watch me with bright eyes.  
"How do you know it will be a girl?"  
"I know it, I saw her – in my dreams."

She didn't laugh, didn't make fun of me, quite the opposite, she was attentive and interested.  
"And what does she look like?"  
"As pretty as you. Her blond curls hide her ears –I lightly touched one of her lobes –, her chin is determined like yours."  
"And why wouldn't she have red hair? Why wouldn't she have your chin? Your ears?  
"I agree for my ears," I laughed when I saw her more animated, "because they're perfect, but about the rest –"  
She was half indignant, half laughing.  
"What with my ears?"  
"Nothing! Nothing at all!" I protested.

At last she was smiling, she even laughed out loud, the Carrie I knew was coming back, little by little. And it was a relief.

"And that little girl in your dream, did she have a name?"  
"She didn't tell me. Maybe we could think about it," I said, going back into serious mode.  
"Yes, maybe," she agreed timidly.

She sat down on the plaid again, more serious too. And pretty much surprised. She grabbed the bottle of water that protruded from the backpack and gulped down at least one third of the bottle. She looked serene now.

"I'll get in touch with Saul. You're right, I must see a doctor."

OoooO

We returned home late afternoon. She went directly to bed. I had finished preparing dinner when I heard groaning sounds. I rushed to the bedroom to see what was wrong. She was wriggling, still sleeping, eyebrows frowned. Maybe it was a bad dream. I sat on the bed and shook her softly. She opened her eyes wide, slightly at a loss. When they set on me, there was a spark while she went from confusion to blatant desire, devouring me with her eyes shamelessly. She put her arm around my neck and pulled me against her.  
"I can't wait anymore," she whispered, kissing me. "You can't leave me like that."

I was unable to think. By keeping my distances, I had only inflamed our mutual attraction. I saw her take her tank top off in a sort of fog that disappeared at the sight of her rounded belly. I moved away, sitting down, and readjusted my tee-shirt:  
"Dinner's ready."  
"I don't care!" she shouted, trying to pull me against her again but to no avail.

She kneeled upright, exposing her breast that was more and more generous, streaked with blue veinlets, which rekindled the flame of desire. She grasped my hands, wrapped my palms around her breasts.  
"I want you to touch me."

She exhaled a long sigh, similar to relief, then threw her head back, displaying her pale throat that called my mouth. I couldn't resist. Her skin was smooth, her scent reminded me of impassioned memories. At the same time her hand took hold of what she was longing for, despite the thickness of my jeans she could perceive that I was quite responsive. I repressed a sigh and bit her flesh, she let out a little cry. She worked on unzipping my jeans. I found myself – I don't know how – lying flat on my back and naked, I conceded defeat when she took me in her mouth.  
Over and done with the reluctance, the precautions, done with the concern about her condition, she was again the sexual object that set each and every millimeter of my being ablaze. Deeply shaken by this unpredicted and intimate contact, I felt I was reaching climax but she stopped and gave me a triumphant smile. She turned her back toward me, took the rest of her clothes off and rubbed herself against me so deftly that I surrendered in a hoarse groan. I wanted her so ardently that it was best to give in before losing all my lucidity, I didn't want to become brutal. And I wanted to please her even more ardently. It was easy to enter the warmth of her eden, interlocked into one another in perfect harmony, I gripped her hips to show them the movement I wanted, slow at first then faster and faster. I kept my eyes open, filled with wonder at the new sensuality she exuded. I was galvanized by her screams close to suffocation. She lacked of air, I lacked of air. She extended her arm, put it around the nape of my neck to pull my face closer to her own that she tried to turn in my direction, almost twisting her neck. She arched her back, swallowing me so deeply that I lost all sense of reality, lost all control, falling to pieces in the most chaotic pleasure.

Out of breath, we remained that way for a long time, resting in the nest of our arms. She jumped slightly, put her hand on her belly, near her stomach.  
"You're hungry?"  
"It gave a little kick."  
Obviously she was expecting it. Instinctively, my hand slipped under hers, she let me do it without a word. I pressed my forehead against the back of her head, my nose in her hair, and closed my eyes to repress my emotion when there was another kick.

* * *

More to come soon.  
We will be with Carrie in the next chapter.


	8. part 8

Thanks to LilMisfit5290 for her review!

Thanks to Terzima for her translation and her support

Thanks for your favorites

We're now back with Carrie.  
Enjoy your reading!

* * *

A New Life

Part 8

* * *

I was waiting for an answer to my message from Saul.  
I had contacted him two days before. I was serene since then, feeling better in my head.

"Are you awake?"

Brody entered the bedroom, where I spent a lot of time. I was really tired and it was taxing.

"Nothing unusual," he had assured me the day before, "maybe a little iron deficiency."

I had watched him, bewildered.

"I read it in the book," he had confessed.

I remembered it with a smile. I couldn't believe he had started to get involved. I didn't know if I could hope for something more – like love for that baby, for instance. Was it possible that there was room left in his heart for the both of us? I wanted to believe it, particularly at night when I vaguely felt his hand on my stomach.

"Carrie, are you okay?"

He leaned towards me, stroking my shoulder. It ignited the flame of my desire for him once again, a desire inlaid in my flesh, catching fire at the smallest contact. He smiled tenderly, I marveled at the expression on his face.

"Oh, no, no! You're not gonna pull that trick on me every time!"

I pulled a face, caught in the act. As soon as I opened my eyes, as I saw him, as I tasted him, I only dreamed of lust, I wanted to wallow in the muck with him, hungry for his body, hungry for his soul. But it was love I was mainly looking for and in our embraces, I saw something that looked like it.

"It only happened three times!"

It wasn't my fault if I dreamed of him in a pornographic manner.

"Come on!"

He pulled me out of bed. As usual, fruit, eggs, toasts, all I wanted. I watched him start eating, noticed he had shaved his beard, his hair was short and sleek. I liked the color of his hair, I wanted the baby to be like him, exactly, boy or girl. He was faraway, lost in some thought or another. The serious look on his face enhanced the perfection of his features, albeit imperfect. A beautiful contradiction.  
He helped himself again, his appetite was better, I pointed it out to him.

"I'm supportive, if you gain weight, I gain weight."

I couldn't help but react.

"You think I'm fat?"

He choked.

"Why do you always hear me wrong?" he said between two coughing fits.

"Answer my question."

"You like it too much," he frowned.  
"Like what?"  
"Put me in an awkward position and then on the hot seat."  
"It's not true."  
"Yes it is."  
"Really, so when was that? When?"  
"Stop being so defensive."  
"Answer my question!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated, I sensed it despite my untimely anger.

"I know why you're like that," he pursued in a low voice, "you always need to have answers, to understand everything, , but you can't always have answers, sometimes there's nothing to say, nothing to understand, Carrie."

As if it would calm me down, my hand squeezed my fork convulsively. He grabbed it, forced me to let go of the fork by pressing my hand firmly, almost painfully. He made me swivel toward him, blocking both sides of the stool with his hands, compelling me to look at him by leaning so close to my face that I couldn't dodge. There was nothing but an eternal ocean of blue before me, I had no choice but dive and drown myself into it. He remained like this without a word, upholding my resentment with a straight face, slowly my tension receded.

"Okay, that's better. Now listen to me, little fool, such a fuss for a couple of unfortunate words, you'll have to learn and manage that too. I don't need to tell you that you're sexy as hell, you know it, damn it!"

A familiar heat spread through my body.

"Everything in you is perfect, everything, absolutely everything," he insisted. "So stop that!"  
I didn't want to blush, I was not that kind, but the heat intensified.

"Really? Even my ears?"

I was teasing him, he saw it. All of a sudden, we were close to each other, allied, in love? One corner of his mouth rose. He moved his lips near my ear and whispered:  
"I love them too, it's all that counts."

He nibbled on my ear lobe, electrifying my whole body. Before I attempted anything, he hugged me gently.

"Stop getting annoyed at everything and nothing, you're too sensitive, it's messing you up, hurting you. You've got to keep calm for your own good and the baby's."

I knew he was right. I was relieved he understood my mood swings. I put my head on his shoulder, I wanted so much to rely on him entirely, in blind trust I had never given anyone before. Was it love? Let yourself fall backwards knowing someone will catch you?

He straightened up.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

I was cold without him. He noticed my shivering, the goose bumps on my skin.

"You're cold?"

He had already rushed to the bedroom and was coming back with his sweater that I donned with pleasure, wrapped in his scent that I couldn't help but inhale although he was there with me. I got embarrassed when I crossed his impassive irises. Sometimes he was a mystery to me and it attracted me like a fly to a flame.  
"When will you hear from Saul?"

"I don't know how he'll do it but it won't be long."

He nodded, pensive.  
"D'you think there's a way to hear from the outside world?"

"Yes, there's always a way. I'll have a shower and then I'll go into town."

"I'm coming with you."

"No, it wouldn't be wise, someone might recognize you."

"I'm dead, it's not an issue."

"Brody," I protested, losing patience.

"I'm not letting you go by yourself."  
"I'll be careful."

"No. I'm coming."

An hour later, we were in Freiburg. I knew that part of town well, I found a parking spot easily and told him to wait for me while I was buying a paper and checking if I'd gotten an answer. He acquiesced and watched me go without a word.

Still no answer from Saul.

I took a newspaper in the large bookstore where you could find papers and books in French, English and German. I skimmed the headlines in the international news section, there was nothing relevant. After I paid, I walked away, the newspaper folded under my arm, a baker boy cap pulled down on my head and hiding my hair tied into a bun, wearing sunglasses even though the sun was hardly shining. The air was cool, I pulled the flaps of my trench coat tighter around me, making my rounded belly apparent – I was about to enter my sixth month. Time was flying by, the due date was approaching, fear was growing. The heels of my boots clicked on the ground, echoing my developing stress.

I had to stop this insane dash back to Brody because something had caught my eyes. I crossed the street and stood in front of a shop window brimming with miniature mannequins wearing gorgeous clothing. There was a dress, simple at first sight but with elaborate finishes. The ginger color of the dress reminded me of autumn, but it was chiefly reminiscent of Brody.

I imagined a little Brody with flame-colored hair.

I just wanted to buy it but it was premature and a bit scary. I was so completely absorbed in the contemplation of that bountiful front window that I didn't hear him get behind me.  
"What are you gazing at?"  
I jumped, startled.  
"Nothing, I – nothing."

He examined the window display, I was watching for his reaction. He turned his attention to me.

"You've seen something you like?"

I indicated the little dress with my chin.

"Isn't it too big?"

"Maybe they have smaller models?"

"Maybe. What about that one?"

He pointed to a dress in golden-yellow shades. I shook my head.

"Anyway, it's better to get sleepsuits," he declared.

"Sleepsuits?"

He looked at me, puzzled, then smiled.

"There's none in display. Let's go in, maybe they have some inside."

He took my hand, pulled me behind him and removed my sunglasses before we stepped in.

"Don't do too much. Plus I like seeing your eyes."

He had a knack for disturbing me when I least expected it. He put them in his jacket pocket and pushed the door that opened with a jingle. I followed him like a shadow, we were the only customers. A lady greeted us kindly, Brody answered in perfect German, started a talk, gently brushed my rounded belly with his hand, she gave me an even broader smile without noticing my embarrassment, and he expressed his request. She guided us and showed several models. I leaned to study those little pajamas with press studs.

"There are also sleep bags and buntings," he explained, showing me other models of baby clothes.

Cold shivers ran down my spine, it seemed so complicated. Not mentioning the price of those little items.

"I'll help you out, I promise."

There was much more in his words than their basic meaning. I felt like crying, right there, in that store, because he had felt how uneasy I was, because he was considerate, because he was there, quite simply. Other customers walked in, the shop assistant excused herself. He turned towards me, I tugged at his sleeve compulsively.

"How are we going to dress and feed the baby? I don't know anything about it."  
"I'll take care of it all, I'll find a job, I'll take responsibility."

I blinked, stunned, no more tears, I was shocked.

"Hey, don't give me that face!" he laughed.

But I couldn't do otherwise. It was hard for me to absorb, to realize that maybe we were finally going to form a family. He slightly bent over me, sneaked me a kiss and it made my heart pound even more.

"You're important to me, you know it, don't you?"

"I do."

"It's my turn to get you out of that nightmare."  
"It's not a nightmare."  
He put his hand on my cheek, his thumb lightly stroked my cheekbone back and forth.

"You know what I mean."

I nodded.

"Let's go," he suggested.

In the car, he took the wheel. I placed the newspaper in the glove box.

"So what about Saul?"  
"Nothing yet."  
It annoyed him. After driving a few miles without a word, he started to glance at me repeatedly.

"What?"

He hesitated then went ahead.

"I'll have to work to support both of you financially, will you be able to stay home?"

"Saul will help us, you won't have to work."

"That's not my way of thinking."

"It's too dangerous, you have to lie low."

He sighed.

"All right, I can stay home and take care of the baby, I don't mind at all, but what about you? Have you considered working? I mean, once the baby's here, it'll grow up, and then? You'll have to keep busy. You think you can be a stay-at-home Mom?"

He was asking good questions, but I had no answers to give, and I was afraid – he was too, I heard it in the tone of his voice – of being unable to cope with that kind of life. I didn't know whether I'd be a good mother, whether I could stay home to raise the baby, I didn't know whether I could do another job. And being deprived of my father and sister might slowly kill me. Unless my condition makes me lose it, and leads me to hurt them both, him and the baby.

"Brody," I panicked, gripped his hand, "stop!"

He braked so hard that the safety belt hurt me. On the roadside, I rushed out of the car. I started running, frantic, my head full of atrocious images. I ran, ran, straight in front of me. I quickly lost my breath, I didn't move fast; I felt arms seizing me, stopping me in full swing. I screamed in terror.  
"Carrie, Carrie, stop screaming! Calm down!"  
His back was towards me, I struggled, my cap fell on the ground, my bun untied, he locked me with an efficient hold crossing my arms on my chest. I was running out of air, running out of air.

"Calm down, please," he begged.

I was running out of air, running out of air.

"Breathe. I'm here, I'm here, so breathe."

I fell on the ground, on my knees, he let himself fall with me without letting go of me. His cheek pressed against mine. He squeezed me, I wanted to get inside his body to hide there, merge with him so I wouldn't have to face all that shit, to let him deal with it for me.

"I'm sorry for all you're going through, it's my fault, I've stolen your life, forgive me."

His pain hit me, jolting me back to reality. I had no right to do that to him. I had to pull myself together. Without realizing it, I adopted his breathing rhythm – long, deep and slow. Little by little I recovered some lucidity. I looked around and noticed people were watching us.

"Oh no – "  
"Come on now, let's go back to the car."

He pulled me up on my feet, I swayed a little, leaned on his extended arm. The spectators scattered as soon as I sat in the car.

OoooO

There was no word exchanged after the incident. That's how the day continued, he on one side, I in the bedroom. I slept rather well, woke up a bit groggy. I stared at the ceiling, bothered. We had done a huge step forward, I didn't want us to go backward because of my fears. I had chosen the situation I was in, and he needed to understand it. I went into the bathroom, my clothes were sweaty, I showered quickly and put on a tank top and pajama bottoms.

I found him sitting on the sofa with the newspaper in hand. There was a delicious smell of food in the room. He had cooked again, it was something I enjoyed to its true worth.

"It smells good."

I sat on the sofa too, caught his arm, put my head on his shoulder. He slowly closed the newspaper and placed it on the coffee table, near my pregnancy book.

"You want dinner?"

"No, not right now, we have to speak about what happened."

He stiffened up, I rubbed his arm softly to soothe him.

"I'm a bit more sensitive, as you said, and it's true, I see all problems bigger than they are and my reactions are excessive, but afterwards things will go back to normal, I won't be as stressed."

"That you don't know. And we'll have problems again and again."

"I'll deal with them, you know me, I'm used to it, I'm good."

He sighed.

"You scared me over there, I don't want you to get hurt because of me. I don't want you to feel prisoner of a life you haven't chosen."

"That's where you're wrong. I've made my choices and I'll stand by them."

"You had no choice."

"Of course I had a choice, I decided to keep our baby, I decided to run with you. I could have gone home without you but it would have been condemning myself to insanity."

He finally looked at me – he was like an open book sometimes – revealing his uneasiness.

"I love you too much to give you up, to live without you," I continued, "whatever sacrifices it involves, I'll never blame it on you."

He pressed his lips together in a thin line. What was he holding back?

"Let's go have dinner," I offered in answer to his silence.

After dinner, he went out a little while, I did the dishes. I took a blanket in the bedroom, went back to the sofa where I nestled to wait for him. The baby moved a lot, reminding me often it was there. It was an odd sensation, another body inside mine was taking life, having it good on me. I was exhausted, and the cramps, heartburns, night sweats, lower back pain, breathlessness, anxiety, all of this gave me a really hard time.

I stroked my belly, it wasn't that bad after all, it wouldn't last forever. I tried to picture the baby, I hoped it was okay, an ultrasound would reassure me. I had been careless all those weeks running behind Brody.

He came back with wood, went straight to the fireplace and started a fire. I watched him, his mind was elsewhere. He took off his jacket and returned into the bedroom.

"Brody?" I called.

"Be right back."

After a few minutes, he had put his sleepwear on, we went to bed early, I had adopted that rhythm, I couldn't help it and he had adopted it too. He was exhausted, and I supposed I was the reason for his exhaustion. He rested his head on the back of the couch, closed his eyes.

"Come."

He opened his eyes, I lifted the blanket, invited him on my lap with a pat. Surprisingly enough, he complied, his head found its place on my lap, his knees bent so that his legs remained fully on the couch. He closed his eyes again. I softly caressed his hair. He moved his head a little so as to be in contact with my stomach. The baby stirred, as if it felt its father was there.  
I pulled the blanket over him, relishing this moment of infinite bliss.

"I've had time to think about it," I broke the silence after several minutes.

"Think about what?"

My heart started racing because it knew what I was about to say.

"You know, for the name. If it's a boy – "

"It will be a girl."

"If it's a boy," I insisted, "what do you think of Silas?"

"No way. Don't even think about it."

"Why?"

"Silas Brody? Are you serious?"

As my eyes opened wide, as my body rocked in a sea turned rough by emotion, struck by the tangibility of our future family, his shining eyes locked with mine.

"What's your idea for a girl?"

"Nicholle."

His face clouded over, disturbing the confidence I felt about my choice. He turned suddenly, stood up, pressed his back against the wall and followed it, hushing me with a finger on his lips. He pulled the curtain, stiffened. There were three knocks on the door. I jumped. Brody's face expressed a thousand different emotions.

"Saul's here."

I was stunned, paralyzed on the couch.

"You want me to open the door for him? Really?"

The harsh and jerky tone of his voice drew me back on earth. I left the couch grudgingly, suddenly drowning in stress. My hand on the door handle, I paused, from the corner of my eyes, I saw Brody stationed by the fireplace, erect like a utility pole. Three knocks resounded again.  
I pulled the door open, Saul didn't even flinch. He didn't have the nerve to smile at me, his face remained expressionless as I studied him without a word.

"You plan on leaving me outside?"

"What are you doing here?"

"You contacted me, right? You need me."

"I need a doctor."

"I've arranged an appointment for you tomorrow. So now can I come in? I've traveled a long way, I'm tired."

I stepped aside to let him in, he entered our retreat and I had a sense of violation when I closed the door behind him. He took off his coat, his hat that he placed on the bar stool. He left his shoes beside our own. Only then did he turn toward Brody and greeted him with a nod. The Earth stopped spinning, I expected the worst.

* * *

More when I can. We'll stay with Carrie.


	9. Part 9

Thanks to **Terzima, **thanks, thanks, thanks a lot!

Thanks to **Bookworm1986** and **zarqa** for your reviews. Love it!

Thanks for all the favorites and alerts.

We are still with Carrie. It took me a while to write this update because I was stuck with Saul's arrival. I didn't know how to include him in the story. I didn't want to get him wrong, I even watched some episodes again to better grasp his character but I don't have Season 3, I don't like that one much anyway, there is not enough Brody IMO and he is always in pain and faraway from Carrie. So what I mean is that the way I interpret Saul may not be the right one but it's how I chose to do it.

I also want to mention that I don't watch Season 4. Terzima told me that there were a couple of details in my fic that were coherent with S4, it's just coincidence but I like it because it means I have understood Carrie's character rather well.

Enjoy your reading

* * *

**A New Life**

**Part 9**

* * *

You could have cut the tension with a knife. Saul being there was as incommoding for me as it was for Brody. A spontaneous reaction of empathy. I crossed the room to join him and saw the vein pulsing on his temple. He was a bundle of nerves, a bomb ready to explode – pun not intended.

I had to deactivate it all at once.

"Brody?"

No reaction, he was watching Saul. The latter had remained where he was without saying a word, with his experience of danger, it was a logical reaction. So why the hell did he force himself to say something?

"You both look good."

I clutched Brody's biceps when I saw him squinting his eyes, clenching his jaw, his breathing getting short.

"We were good before you got here," I snapped.

I couldn't help being blunt.

"Brody," I resumed, "please, go to bed, I'll be there in a minute."

I stroked his arm to soothe him but I felt more like I was transmitting my stress. I was used to dealing with extreme cases, however this time I was struggling, it was too personal, I was intimately involved. I needed to be clear-headed and if he stayed, it wouldn't happen.

"Please," I insisted.

He slowly turned an apocalyptic face toward me, I shrank back while enduring a painful spasm in my chest. The look on his face changed when he saw my recoil, he extended an arm and pulled me against him, burying his face in my hair.

"Ok, don't be late, and throw him out of our house."

I nodded without thinking, relieved. He walked around the furniture to avoid him and left the room like a zombie. My attention turned violently to Saul.

"Why did you come here? You're compromising our safe house!"

"I was worried, and it's temporary here, and no, I haven't compromised anything."

"We – we'll have to leave again?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"France."

France? I wasn't thrilled by the prospect, I wasn't happy to leave this place, and knowing Brody wouldn't approve either strengthened the feeling.

"When?"

"In a few days, when everything's ready, I'll drive you there."

"You're not staying here several days, are you?" I cried out, nervous.

"Of course I am. Do you have a guestroom? I'm tired."

"You can use the couch for the night. Get a hotel room afterwards."

I was already on my way to our bedroom, superbly ignoring him. How was I going to break the news to Brody?

"Carrie!" he called out to me.

"What?"

I didn't even bother turning round.

"We need to talk."

"Not tonight; I'll bring you something to make a bed."

I grabbed a blanket in the bathroom cabinet and threw it on the couch.

"Why do you react that way? Isn't it what you wanted? I did what it took to keep you alive, it wasn't easy, I took huge risks."

"You want me to feel sorry for you?"

"I want you to be grateful."

"My family thinks I'm dead, Saul, do you realize what you've done to them?"

"Brody wasn't supposed to live for the operation to be successful, I took risks you can't even start to fathom. Besides me, nobody knows you're alive."

"Not even your wife?"

"Not even Mira. And I can tell you it was really hard to lie to her again."

Okay. Baffled, I stayed there, shuffling.

"Why didn't you follow the orders?"

"I did it for you, because you appeared to unreasonably shift toward obsession."

I didn't understand, stared at him.

"Brody."

"He's not an obsession."

"Yes, he is! And you were putting yourself in danger because of it."

"I put myself in danger 'cause I love him! He's the father of my child. And you wanted me to give him up?"

"I got that too, and I acted accordingly as much as I could."

I was too disturbed, too weary to answer.

"What time is the appointment tomorrow?"

"2 PM."

"All right, good night Saul," I said mechanically while walking away.

In the bedroom, Brody was sitting on the edge of the bed by the window, I could only see his back, stooped. I skirted the bed and sat by his side.

"I'm seeing a doctor tomorrow, my appointment is at 2 PM."

He gave a nod of approval. His profile was locked in a mix of a lot of negative stuff.

"He's still here?"

"For the night only. Tomorrow he'll go somewhere else."

I saw his hands curl into fists.

"How long is he staying and why?"

Should I tell him? His state of nervousness was palpable.

"I don't know."

"He's hardly here and you're lying again."

The blow struck hard. I felt like crying. I gazed at the window, ashamed.

"We'll leave the safe house in a few days for a permanent location in France, he'll take us there."

He remained silent for much too long. His profile was so shut, so hostile that it was unbearable.

"Luckily there's no gun here," I attempted a joke.

Actually, there was a gun but he didn't need to know. He remained stony-faced.

"You can use a lot of things to kill," he reminded me in an unrecognizable voice.

The hairs on my arms stood up.

"I've had many instructors who made a killing machine out of me. And he's one of them."

"I'm one of them too," I said softly.

He turned his attention to me, gazed at me for so long that I had to look away. Staring at my hands, I waited for his answer.

"You didn't have the same motivations, you wanted to help me find again what I'd lost."

"I have no excuse, I used you."

"I let you do it, it's different."

I was a little short of breath, it was jerky inside my stomach.

"Why did you let me?"

"You know why."

I was not sure I understood. He pulled me against him, my head rested on his shoulder.

"I hurt you a lot, Carrie, you spent a long time in the hospital."

"In the loony bin you mean."

He didn't answer.

"I loved you so madly that I thought I'd lost myself along the way, that I'd forgotten my priorities, that I'd lost my judgment. Loving you looked worse than my illness."

He held me tighter.

"I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter anymore, you know it. We've been able to find and love each other as we are."

I lifted my head to search for his eyes, to get his approval.

"We love each other for good, right?"

"Yes, there's love between us."

"So why don't you say so?"

Of course he didn't answer. He kissed me instead and as usual, I lost sense of reality.

OoooO

I woke up with a start, suffocated by heartburns. Coughing loudly, I slipped into the bathroom not to wake him up, drank a little water, which made me suffocate even more. My entire esophagus was burning horribly. It wasn't the first time it happened, it was extremely unpleasant. I went back to bed, not feeling well.

I couldn't sleep, it upset me. I nestled against Brody, finding a nice spot on his chest, I listened to the beating of his heart and eventually, I forgot my discomfort. I was falling asleep when he started to stir. His face turned in all directions, he mumbled, arched his back, extended his arm, I was vigorously pushed away from his chest.

I stroked his cheek, whispered reassuring words. I had never seen him so agitated since our arrival in the house. He opened his eyes, seemed to see me and closed them right away. He stopped stirring.

Bye bye sleep, I was under stress again. I went to the kitchen to get a glass of milk. The figure of Saul on the couch made me jump. I resented him for breaking our tranquility. I resented him for disturbing Brody, I resented him for not allowing us to be a happy couple in our country. But on second thought, could we have been happy in a country which would have rejected him anyway?

In front of the fridge, I felt sad. I slammed the door shut and went back to bed.

I woke up with a start again, this time it was distress that had roused me from sleep. Or was it the screams? I quickly stumbled out of bed, my head spun violently when I stood up. I held onto the bed table to find my balance. I wasn't fast enough, the screams were stronger, reached my ears more clearly, then stopped abruptly, making my heart beat wildly. There was a sound of something falling.

Oh, no, fuck!

When I got into the living room, I found Brody punching Saul. Shit, shit, shit!

"Brody, stop!"

He didn't hear me, I saw Saul stand up. There was blood on his face, he staggered again, about to collapse. I rushed to clutch Brody's arm, he was already in the momentum of the next blow and I had to pull backward to counterbalance the move. He bellowed in rage and shook my hand off to start up again.

"Don't do it again!" I ordered him.

He froze, remained motionless for ten long seconds, then walked to the entrance door that he flung open and blitzed outside, with his clothes on but barefoot. I ran after him, ignoring Saul who was slumped on the couch. On the front steps, I called him in vain, he was running straight on. I couldn't let him on his own, not in that state. So I launched myself after him despite the cold, despite my own bare feet. The twigs hurt me, hampered me and it drove me crazy. I stepped sideways and fell on the ground, I was able to fall on my side by breaking my fall with my arm. Jesus, no! the baby! I closed my eyes, breathing slowly.

Brody was already bent over me, worried.

"Does it hurt?"

"I'm fine, don't worry."

I was almost positive I had broken my fall properly, I just had scratches on my arm and a sore shoulder. He lifted me up so carefully that I couldn't help but smile, I felt immediately better in his arms. I needed to be pampered, was it a normal reaction or was I becoming too dependent?

In the living-room he placed me on the couch, pushing away Saul who tried to see what I had. He scrutinized me from head to toe, I winced when he palpated my shoulder.

"What have you done to her?" Saul exclaimed.

Thankfully, Brody ignored him. Saul was still complaining, spoiling this special moment. "Please, make him stop!" I thought to myself.

"I'm fine," I told Brody again.

"No, Carrie, you have to see a doctor," he enjoined.

His hand brushed against my belly, hung there for a second. I slipped my hand on his, didn't bother to contradict him, I knew he was right.

"I'll get bandages."

He walked away, pushing Saul back even more strongly. Saul sat down beside me as soon as he was gone. A big smile spread across my face when I saw his bruised face.

"He sure didn't pull his punches."  
"And you're proud of it Carrie?" he said with irritation.  
"Yeah. You deserved it."

"I've brought you together and that's my reward?"

"You hurt him a lot, he won't forget it, and you used me to manipulate him."

"You knew why, you agreed."

"I had to do my job, but at what cost? You sent him to his death and you want me to forgive you?  
"He knew the risks. He did a lot of harm too, if he accepted, it's because he knew he had to redeem himself."

I didn't want to hear it, not in my fragile, emotional state, not when I was unable to think clearly.

"I wanted him to succeed," he continued, "and come back."

"I have my doubts."  
"I jeopardized my career Carrie," he hissed. "The decision to eliminate him didn't come from me, I was already off the job. He was considered an unstable element, a dead weight, a shame for his country."

"It could have changed."

"You don't believe it yourself Carrie, you know how unwelcome he would have been even if we had disclosed how decisive his involvement was."  
"Nobody will ever know how brave he is."

"You know it, I do too, and so does the Agency, as well as the President."

I glanced at him, skeptical, but had no time to answer, Brody was back with a first-aid kit. Saul stood up immediately. Had Brody heard us? Probably not. His face showed nothing. He took the time to cleanse the scratches on my arms and apply a few bandages. He handed the kit to Saul without a glance. He grabbed it and vanished in the bathroom.

"Brody," I tried.

"Are you hungry?"

"Honestly, yes."

"I'll bring you something."

"I can walk."

"No! You stay and lie there."

I saw there was no point arguing.  
I was eating my breakfast when Saul reappeared.

"I moved the appointment forward, we have to be there at 11."

OoooO

It wasn't an easy task to convince Brody to stay home and wait for me.  
I missed his presence, I felt terribly nervous and it hurt in my groin. Saul was driving calmly and without a word – to my relief. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, but I was scared. A familiar fear was slyly seeping in and put me in agony.  
I tried breathing exercises but nothing could prevent anxiety to increase.

"Stop fidgeting, we're almost there."

I didn't know I was fidgeting.

"If I lose my mind in the near or far future, don't let Brody deal with it alone."

He didn't answer.

"Promise me, Saul!"

"Ok. I'll do it."

I chose to believe him. I had no choice anyway.

I looked outside but couldn't focus on the landscape, I was numb with fear. I don't know how I managed not to break down during the rest of the ride. When we pulled over, I hauled myself out of the car to take deep and long breaths. I followed him like a robot, there was not a living soul in sight. In the clinic waiting room, before I let myself fall on a seat, a small brunette with an ordinary face yet imprinted with professionalism came for me. She spoke my language with a think German accent. She didn't ask for my name, her questions were only about my health. I told her all about my fears regarding the impact of my condition, my fall and my pains, my expectations. Concerned, she immediately suggested an examination.

I undressed quickly and donned the gown hanging on the rack. I lay down on a cold exam table, the white walls made me even more uncomfortable, I felt alone. She took my blood pressure.

"Your blood pressure is too high. You'll need a lot of rest and quiet."

"Easier said than done."

I winced with pain. She went on with her exam, my feeling of loneliness vanished when I heard the sound of a fast heartbeat. I looked at the image she was pointing at, it was beyond imagination: the baby was there, for real with his tiny fingers, little hands and huge head. The doctor was checking the various parameters, her satisfied nods were reassuring.

"You want to know the baby's gender?"

"Yes. Well, no. Maybe."

Brody wasn't there, it was killing me.

"I can put the images onto a cd for the dad, what do you think?"

I agreed, moved to tears by her offer prompted by intuition. Saul would find us a way to read it.

"So? Do you want to know?"

I said yes with a nod.

"It's a girl."

I couldn't help but burst into a tearful laugh. Brody had been right.

"Is she blond?"

She looked at me, taken aback.

"We can't tell for now. Only when she's born."

"Her father is red-haired, I'd like her to be like him."

Why such an obsession? I had no idea. I winced with pain again.

"Why does it hurt like this?"

"The ultrasound didn't show anything, but it would be safer to hospitalize you, particularly with your hypertension."

My blood froze at the word "hospitalize".

"No! I don't want to go to hospital I want to go home!"

My blood pressure increased, my breathing shortened, my hands shook, I was getting agitated.

"Go and get Saul!"

I started to get down from the exam table, she tried to hold me back, I pushed her back briskly. I started to feel dizzy and nauseous, I held onto the edge of the table, my hand of my forehead. I had to calm down but how? I was in uncharted territory, overwhelmed, terrified.

Brody.

I wanted him here and now. I should have let him come with us but once again Saul and his bullshit had convinced me.

"Carrie, lie back down!"

She had brought him in.

"We're leaving, Saul! Help me get dressed!"

"If you can't do it yourself, it means there's a problem, Carrie."

"I'm just a little tired."

To contradict me, the pain came back, intensified and spread down to the small of my back. My hand put itself instinctively on the sorest point, my head rested on the table.

"Lie back down!"

"Carrie, lie back down!"

I knew I had lost, they were going to lock me up. And I still didn't know what caused me so much pain. I wasn't oversensitive to pain but I felt suddenly so weak that everything seemed insurmountable. The only thing I knew for sure was that my daughter was okay.

So far.

"I want Brody, go get him Saul."

* * *

**BRODY**

As I was walking around in circles like a trapped lion, I was comforted by the sound of a car engine approaching. She was back, finally, everything was well then. I rushed to greet her and froze when I didn't see her in the passenger seat.

"Where is she?"

I skirted the car, Saul slowly got out of it, leaving me to stew in my anger and apprehension.

"She had to be hospitalized. It may last a while."

My heart fell to my feet.

"The baby?"

"Fine. It's more as a preventive measure. She suffers from hypertension, sharps pains and too much stress. She has to stay in bed."

"I want to see her."

"You can't. I've had her transported by helicopter to a specialty clinic near Paris, you'll have to bear with it."

* * *

More to come when I can. Be patient!


	10. part 10 1-2

Thanks to **lipamo**, **LilMisfit5290 **and **karivalentina **for your reviews.

Thanks for the alerts and favorites.

And thanks to **Terzima** for her fantastic job which is amazing! She advised me to separate this chapter into two parts because it was very long to translate.

We are now back with Brody.

I know my fic is not realistic for several reasons but I need to have them together and give them some happiness even if it's something basically impossible.

Enjoy your reading.

* * *

**A New Life**

**Part 10-1**

* * *

**BRODY**

I was stunned by what I'd just heard, in a state of shock actually.

I remained there in front of Saul, speechless, shattered at the idea of Carrie being far away.

"Here's for you."

He handed me a CD case.

"It's the ultrasound."

I stared at the case, certainly looking like an idiot. Since I was not moving, Saul slipped the CD into his pocket and took a bag from the trunk, then walked around me up to the house. I followed him and regained my speech.

"Why so far? Is it to punish me for beating you up?"

"Everything doesn't revolve around you, Sergeant Brody, it was best for her."

"When will I see her?"

"I don't know."

He was inside already, I stayed on the front steps a couple of minutes, hesitating between fighting again and smoothing things out. I finally chose self-control. I got in after him, he wasn't in the room, he came back when I started to look for him.

"It won't work," I growled involuntarily.

"I advise you not to touch me again."

I got the threat, clutched my fists, he put his stuff away without paying attention to me and I watched him, powerless. There was not as much anger, more fear: he was the only one who could take me to her. He finally placed himself in front of me, as icy as an iceberg, he was waiting for something.

And I knew what: apologies. But he could wait, the bruises on his face made me feel great.

"I want to see Carrie."

His face hardened even more.

"She'll be better off without you, finally."

No, no more violence, hold back.

"I've always known that, I want to see her, Saul."

The prospect of being separated from her was horrendous, and knowing she was alone to deal with all that was happening – and that I was responsible for it – was even worse.

After a night of bad dreams, I had woken up under stress, and finding Saul in my living-room had only reminded me of my nightmares and kindled my resentment. Carrie fell because I was unable to control myself, because I was a public danger. And if anything happened to them –

Dread was now in each and every fiber of my body.

"All right," he suddenly gave in.

Saul scrutinized me, still icy but more accommodating.

"I'll come back for you in a week and we'll leave for Paris."

"A week! Why so long?"

"There's been a few changes. Take it or leave it."

I didn't protest.

After he was gone, I remained seated on the couch, it was going to be a long week…

I'd gone running, I'd cut wood, built fire, cooked, but my heart wasn't in it, she was not there; our house was small, had lost its raison-d'être, and I felt unsecure to an indescribable degree.

Now that I was ready to be with her, to get involved in our family as best as I could, everything was going up in smoke and my doubts were rushing back. Was this separation a sign that I had to let her start over without my interfering? No, no, that was the worst idea, I was too weak to leave her.

Or maybe it was because I simply loved her too much, I realized with a vague and cautious joy.

Her absence disclosed the obvious but it didn't help me, quite the opposite: I suffered and I resented it.

I held my hands together then started my dinner, it was night. I felt oppressed and lonely. Yet I should have rejoiced that she was in good hands but knowing her I guessed she didn't like it. She hated everything related to a hospital and I wasn't with her for support.

"Wish I were there, you know," I whispered.

One week.

I sighed, did the washing-up and went and lay down on the couch by the fire. I thought of our discussion the day before and how we had talked about our daughter's name, her choice had upset me because it was too close to my own name, I didn't want that child to look anything like me. Now I didn't care anymore, as long as they were OK, Carrie could give her the name she wanted.

I remembered the CD and regretted not taking it. I fell asleep, unhappy and alone.

The little blond girl showed up in my dream again, accused me of abandoning her and her mother. However hard I tried to explain, she didn't want me to take her in her arms, to reassure her; she pointed her finger to Carrie, who was strapped on a bed where she thrashed about, screaming my name in despair. I was in agony because I couldn't reach her. I was useless.

I woke up, my eyes drawn to the fire that had died and reflected my state of mind.

On my way to have a shower, I stopped by the bedroom; on the chest were the CD and a laptop with a DVD player. My heart skipped a beat, when did he – ? I inserted the CD and delicately took the laptop and sat down on the bed. I waited before pressing "play", my finger in the air.

The video was only two minutes long.

Two minutes when I broke up into billions of cells and slowly reassembled. There was no word, no, there was no word to express how much love I already felt for this little being. It was brutal, suffocating, terrifying. Yet life was seeping back everywhere in my body, in a painful reality. I wondered how I had suppressed so many emotions for so long. In the corners of my eyes formed beads of tears that I barely held back.

I lightly touched the screen where the last image was frozen, mesmerized by the upcoming happiness that was reaching out for me.

Eventually I decided to go and have my shower then went back in the bed – on Carrie's side – to view the video again and as many times as necessary.

OoooO

Two days later, when I stepped out of the shower, I decided to go to the lake; on the front steps, I found a bag of groceries. I scanned the horizon and didn't see anything. I took the bag to put the groceries away. At the bottom, I found an envelope, I weighed it up, turned it, it was a simple brown A4 envelope with nothing written on it. After thinking hard for a minute, I chose to open it, inside there were a disposable cellphone and a note by Saul:

"One call to this number, 5 minutes maximum."

I looked at the number, bewildered. Why do me this favor? Unless it was Carrie's works? I was already entering the number, taking a few deep breaths, anxious, happy. She picked up.

"Hello?" I said.

Silence.

"Carrie?"

Silence.

"Carrie, love, answer me."

Silence, yet I could hear a breathing sound at the other end of the line.

"I'm sorry, I feel bad, I'm responsible for your fall and your going through this by yourself. I'd like so much to be with you."

There was a beep, she had hung up.

"No, no, no! Carrie! Why?"

I tried to call back in vain, the line was dead. In a rage I smashed the phone on the ground.

I didn't understand. Was she mad at me for some reason? Had something bad happened? I shook my head to get rid of those grim images that made no sense. I stared at the pieces on the ground and decided to pick them up. I put everything back into the envelope, noticed there was a file inside. It was the ultrasound report, there was no name, only the pictures and the observations that I started reading at once. Despite the medical jargon, it was easy to understand that everything was fine, and that the baby was really a girl. It was written in black and white. I would have liked to see her reaction, and boast because I'd been right, and then she'd have sent me packing with swearwords. This simple thought brought a smile back on my face.

I went to the lake anyway. A huge mistake since I missed her cruelly.

At night, I set about packing her things in the sports bag, she might need them. I incidentally let myself become intoxicated by her scent, cracking my heart even more.

The days went by painfully, I brooded, walked around in circles, went into deep introspections, restless. I felt like a prisoner so I went running often, I also returned to the lake – as painful as it was.

I also decided to clean the cabin from top to bottom, to read Carrie's pregnancy book again, to read some books that were in the bedroom, to wash some clothes even if it wasn't adapted.

And I played the ultrasound video again and again.

On the last day, I counted the minutes, the seconds. I had cut my hair, shaved, I wanted to look presentable. I tidied the house once again, opened wide the windows to ventilate. I emptied the fireplace and put a sweater on to protect myself against the cold air. It was already midnight when I sat down to eat a sandwich. There wasn't much left in the fridge anyway – I had cleaned and unplugged it. It was a good thing that Saul was coming for me tomorrow.

OoooO

In his car, I told him the phone incident right away, he frowned but didn't speak.

"Right, Saul, thanks for your help."

"Spare me your sarcasm."

It was impossible to get anything out of him, so I gave up.

"How can you handle everything since you're not in the Agency anymore?"

"Who said I'm not?"

I looked at him, puzzled.

"Well, at least you're not in charge anymore."

"Not officially."

"What do you mean?"

But he didn't answer, as usual.

"Where are we going?"

"To take a plane."

OoooO

Three more days went by before I was able to visit her.

We had settled in a house in a village near Fontainebleau. It wasn't big, it was isolated, it was depressing. I missed the cabin and putting up with Saul day to day was hell except the day before because I hadn't seen him much. On the same night, I dreamed I strangled him with a lunatic laugh, I woke up in a sweat and couldn't get it out of my head. Sitting at breakfast, I couldn't help telling him.

"I get urges to kill you."

He slowly lifted his head, out his cup down, took his glasses off and cleaned them.

"Me too, Sergeant Brody. And they're strong."

I was surprised by the confession and the honesty that went with it.

"Why?"

He watched me for a few seconds and then leaned toward me.

"I mainly remember that day when I saw my friend undergoing electric shocks – for nothing – "

The blow hit me hard, I didn't expect it.

" – not mentioning that kid you saddled her with."

I pushed my breakfast on the table, placed my forehead in my hands.

"That's what it looks like to be everyone's poison, to destroy everything you lay a hand on. When I think this little girl will come to this world with the heavy burden of having you as a father –"

"Enough!"

I slammed my fist on the table. He didn't bat an eye.

"You stole the best element of the Agency from us, and I'll never forgive you. Get ready, we're leaving in an hour."

"Why did you arrange our reunion if you despise me so much?"

"Because Carrie loves you and she begged me to save you whatever the cost."

"You could have said no."

"I could have, yes – and I should have."

He finished his coffee and resumed reading his newspaper.

OoooO

We drove to the clinic in heavy silence. After a one hour-drive, he dropped me at the inconspicuous entrance of a clinic, I got out of the car. When I saw he didn't follow, I walked back to the car.

"I'll wait for you here," he decided.

He parked on the side, took out a newspaper, I crossed the street to question him.

"You're not going to see her?"

"I saw her yesterday."

I almost suffocated with shock and anger.

"You're a real son of a –"  
"Go now, you have an hour," he interrupted me casually.

I swallowed my rage and passed the gate and the reception without being asked any question, as if I was expected, still bitter, then walked towards the park he had told me about. There was various vegetation, trees, benches; it was a very calming place and I felt its effect. The buildings were spaced out and only two floors high. I sat on one of the benches, near the fountain as agreed with Saul. The air was cool, the sky was grey but it didn't rain, at least. The trees denuded themselves, the leaves were getting brown and fell on the ground, reminding me how fragile life could be.

I saw some movement in my peripheral vision, a man was approaching slowly, certainly one of the clinic residents. I didn't pay attention to him, disappointed it wasn't Carrie.

When he stopped in front of me, I gave a vague look at him and jumped on my feet, in shock.

"Yes, I'm here."

Quinn

* * *

The second part soon.


	11. part 10 2-2

Here is the second part.

Thanks to **karivalentina** and **Lipamo **for your reviews.

Thanks to **Terzima **for the translation.

Still with Brody.

Enjoy your reading.

* * *

**A New Life**

**Part 10-2**

* * *

"Where's Carrie?"

"Asleep."

"I want to see her."

I was already walking away from him, my sight hurting from just seeing him. He grabbed my arm, I pushed him back.

"Don't you ever touch me again!"

I remembered the interrogation too well. He let go and raised his hands in a mock peace sign, his gaze was dark as hell. I didn't trust him, it was instinctive, he represented a threat, like Saul but in a different way. In a few seconds I sensed the problems stemming from his presence and the risks it involved.

"Let me tell you just one thing, Brody: leave her alone."

I faced him, livid.

"It was you who answered the phone a few days ago," I realized.

"Yes, it was. I got here a week ago much to Saul's annoyance, he thought his little secret was well kept but I'm better than that."

"Anyone else knows?"

"Of course not."

"Why did you come? Why put her in danger?"

He laughed scornfully.

"Seriously? I'm the one who's putting her in danger? Who are you kidding Sergeant Brody?"

I was sick and tired of being called that way. I was sick and tired of people interfering in my life, of being judged, of being deprived of what I cared for.

"She always refused to tell me what happened," he continued, "the reasons for her unexplained pains. I finally know the bottom line thanks to you. And I understood you were a threat for her and a dead weight."

I seethed inside, because he was right.

"I can't," I said eventually.

"You can't what?"

"Let them down."

"We'll take her back, it's best for her."

Oh no! No! No! No! I had to keep calm.

"What does Carrie think?"

"She's fine with it."

Liar!

"I'd call that into question."

"You have some nerve! You made her life hell and you're pretending you know what she's thinking?"

"I know she loves me, I know she knows I love them both."

"You call that love? It's anything but love, when you love someone, you don't bring misery into their lives."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?"

There was some kind of demented sparkle in his eyes, he _was_ a dangerous guy.

"You can't take her back to the US," I ignored him, "it's impossible, and too risky."

"Risky for you, not for her, she can disappear over there and start a new life."

"And you'll be around to help her?"

That idea had just struck me. He squinted without answering which increased my unease.

"Yes, I'll be there for her."

"She won't live that kind of life, not without me," I countered.

"You're quite presumptuous," he shortly sniggered and turned dead serious again.

"And even with me by her side," I continued, "I'm not even sure she can. So if you have it all figured out, tell me who'll handle her condition? How can I be sure my daughter won't be in danger?"

I was going too far, I didn't care. He turned pale as if I had hit him.

"How dare you?" he growled.

He came so close that I felt his breath on my face.

"I won't leave Carrie or my daughter behind," I opposed doggedly. "You'll have to kill me to part me from them."

"Don't tempt me."

He turned around.

"We're not done. I want to see her," I insisted.

He turned halfway.

"If you love her as you say you do, leave her alone, don't come and see her, we'll take care of her and the baby. In one or two years they'll be leading a normal life and they won't have to be on the run and hide all the time."

He started to walk, leaving me in full doubt.

Was I so selfish as to deprive them of a normal life?  
No. Of course not.

I stared at the building feeling like my heart was being torn out. I could only walk back to the car, devastated.

"You're back already?"

When I saw Saul I wanted to crush him.

"You knew it, asshole!"

He raised his head from the newspaper, stared at me through the open window.

"You saw Quinn too."

"I didn't see Carrie!"

I launched into an enraged monologue, gesticulating, going in circles around the car, angry as hell again. He went out of the car, sat on the hood and crossed his arms.

"What happened?"

"Are you kidding me?"

I had stopped short, yelling like a madman. I needed a scapegoat to appease my growing hatred.

"You had it all planned! You just fucked with me!"  
"How was that?"

"So why all those arrangements if it's to eventually pull us apart, why not let me die over there?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're going to take them away and what am I supposed to do? Tell me! What'll I do without them? Might as well finish me off in right now."

I lost all strength, crushed by pain.

"Are you done?"

I didn't bother answering.

"I'm not taking Carrie anywhere."

"That's not –"

"What he said doesn't matter. I won't do it because she won't survive it, not as long as you're alive."

"What? You plan to kill me? You want a rope to hang me from a bridge?"

A nightmare I often had.

"No, it wasn't my goal, but I'll ask you something."

"What?"

"Do you really think you'll be able to take care of her? Carrie's life has never been easy, you know."

"I know. But I'll deal with it."

"Really? And you also think you can keep her at home, doing nothing, you don't think it'll drive her crazy?"

I resented being quizzed like this.

"We've talked about it."

"And?"

"And nothing, we know it'll be hard, but that's what she wants."

"What about you? What do you want?"

I didn't need to do a lot of thinking to answer.

"I want her to be happy and if she wants to go, I'll let her."

A lump formed in my throat.

"That's what I wanted to hear."

I stared at him, wary.

"When she understands the mistake she's doing, I want you to let her go back to her country with her daughter and I'll do what's necessary for her to regain a sense of normalcy."

"So that was it from the start? A vile compromise?"

The dream I'd had about him came back to me, becoming a potential reality.

"Carrie's stubborn, the only means to have her back was to give in to her demand and wait until she realizes her mistake herself."

I pinched the bridge of my noise, breathing as calmly as I could.

"Don't be so surprised."

"I shouldn't be. Carrie has such a great deal of respect for you, she's so wrong."

"I'm her friend, she knows it."

"Her friend only?"

For the first time in a long time, I saw him frown.

"Don't follow this path or you'll regret it."

"I already do. I want to see Carrie."

Surprisingly, I won my case.

The area around the clinic was rather empty. We crossed different pathways to building C, then walked down a long corridor painted in plain pastel colors and stopped at a door. I couldn't wait any longer so I got into the room without knocking, ignoring Quinn's acerbic protests, suppressing my desire to jump on him because I was only interested in the woman lying on the bed.

"Peter," Saul hissed, "out. Now!"

They glared at each other but I was past them already, Carrie was asleep, I walked around the bed, took the patient data sheet hung at the foot of the bed. There was a false name and data I didn't understand. Then I sat in an armchair, close to her, to wait for her to wake up, taking my hat off. She was so pale, not serene even in her sleep. Her hair was shorter and dyed darker, it hardened her features. I expected to find machines beeping around her but there wasn't any.

Quinn was outside with Saul, I heard them vaguely behind the door. I noticed a photo frame on the bedside table, unfamiliar faces around Carrie. I took it mechanically, guessing the father figure, guessing also her sister and nieces. She held them close against her in a protective and motherly manner, showing how she would be as a mother. My heart sank again, she was happy in that family picture.

I put the frame back on the table, stood in front of the window and lost myself in the sight of the autumnal horizon, thrusting my hands in my pockets, suddenly freezing. I was fighting my demons, time and again, and I supposed that I would be until the end of times.

I didn't need to turn my head to know she was awake. I sensed her gaze on me, it was systematic. I turned around slowly not to scare or surprise her. She wavered between joy and sadness, bright-eyed.

"Is that you? For real? I'm not hallucinating?"

I closed the gap between us and sat by her side, caught her hand and squeezed it. I caressed her hair, soothed by that simple touch. So was she apparently.

"How are you doing? And the baby?"

"We're fine. I'm just tired and under stress apparently."

She was downplaying things.

"I was so worried, worried sick."

"I was against the idea of being far from you, you know it, right?"

I nodded.

"Its' just that the baby –"

"I know, I know. I feel so bad, you've no idea."

"I should've been more careful, I promise to stop acting without thinking – well, I'll do my best," she joked.

"Don't be a fool, _I _was supposed to watch over you."

"And I over you."

"It's my responsibility to protect you both," I insisted.

I put my hand on her belly bump that showed despite the blankets. She watched me intently.

"So you've seen the ultrasound?"

"Dozens of times."

She gave me a tender smile, which warmed me up completely.

"Go ahead, say it."

I showed my perplexity.

"Say it, I allow you to."

I understood and suppressed a smile.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"No kidding. Come on, Brody, I know you're dying to do it."

"If you insist, see, I told you it would be a girl."

"There was a 50-50 chance, it was easy."

"You're a sore loser."

"Always have been."

It was good to share again this feeling of complicity that bonded us. Good to feel myself again.

"And what did you feel when you saw her?"

"It made me fall head over heels in love for her."

She turned her face, deeply moved. Her chin trembled, her brows furrowed, her tears were about to fall. And then she turned back to me, gave me a large and trusting smile.

"I'd like to go out, walk a little, can you help me?"

"You have the right to get up?"

"I'm not made out of sugar, and it's good for me to walk a little; with Quinn, we often go for a walk. We walked this morning, then I had breakfast and I was drained."

I tensed at the name of that good-for-nothing.

"Where is he by the way?"

"Gone with Saul."

At least, that's what I hoped. I helped her to stand up, she was already dressed, she showed me the closet in the corner.

"Would you please take my coat?"

In the corridor, she leaned on my extended arm, I was relieved not to see the two pains in the ass. We walked slowly, passing the occasional resident or nurse's aid, the silence disrupted by the dim sound of television seeping from the rooms.

"Saul and you got along ok?"

"Ok. We acted civilized."

"I was expecting your call, you know," she said tentatively when we reached a coffee machine in an empty waiting hall.

"I called you but you're not the one who answered."

She frowned, waiting for more detail.

"I called you one week ago, I think Quinn picked up. He didn't say a word but –"

She fumbled in her pocket for a coin, visibly irritated.

"Fuck, what about minding his own business! It'll cost him plenty!"

Her finger wavered between the various choices of coffee.

"Don't drink coffee."

She grumbled but complied, and took hot chocolate.

"Gives me the runs," she mumbled.

I couldn't help but smile. She joined me at the window that looked onto the outside.

"Sorry, too much information," she apologized.

"It's hard for you, I know. Staying in bed, being dependent, in pain, in the unknown."

She swallowed her hot chocolate and threw the cup into the trash can. She sat in my lap and put her arms around me, forehead to forehead.

"When you're here, it all becomes secondary."

She stroked my cheek, kissed me again and again, until I forgot the world around us.

"I almost lost my mind when you didn't call me," she confessed between two passionate kisses.

"Me too. My only opportunity to talk to you and that asshole wasted it."

"I won't let anyone stand between us again and feed me bullshit."

I cupped her face in my hands to watch her with wonder.

"I'm happy to hear it."

"I'm so eager to start our new life, there's no words!"

"It won't be easy, are you sure that's what you want?"

She lost some of her peace of mind.

"I'm fucking scared, yeah, I'm scared to fail but I want to try. I didn't think I'd be passionate about anything else than my job, I thought I'd grow old alone, but you're here with me and despite your weaknesses and fears, you're ready to fight, and you see – I'm happier than I've ever been."

* * *

More to come when I can.


	12. Part 11

Thanks to **kz4valentina** et **LilMisifit5290** for yours reviews!^^

**Terzima**, you know you are the best!

We're back with Carrie now.  
We're reaching the end, maybe two or three more chapters and an epilogue.

Enjoy your reading!

* * *

**A New Life**

**Part 11**

* * *

Brody had left an hour earlier.

Saul had driven him back, they were supposed to be back the next day, I had insisted on it. Regarding Quinn, I had chewed him out hardcore, he also left soon afterwards. To think that he had deprived me of the only thing that would have helped me not to lose my mind during the time I'd spent on my own here! I was mighty pissed at him! I felt like I was sliding back to what was worst inside me, without being able to counter the slide. His presence hadn't helped me to feel better, despite his efforts, I was losing myself inside my mind, unable to connect with reality. The coming and going of the nurses, doctors, cleaners, nothing disturbed me. As if I had been anesthetized all along.

I sank into the armchair I was sitting on in the common room, in front of the TV where stupid things were being watched by other residents, it was in French, I didn't understand a word. Anyway, I was somewhere else, my mind was flying away to join the man I loved.

The simple sight of Brody had boosted me. He had that kind of effect on me, I had found him even more handsome, so unreal, like out of a dream. And he had told me all those things…

I couldn't help smiling, I was happy.

I mechanically stroked my belly. My daughter's kicks were becoming more precise, more regular, she liked to be felt in daytime, at night she left me alone. I tried to be more maternal, it was not easy, I knew nothing about it, and it wasn't innate as one might think. She was my closest connection to Brody, a reminder of his existence.

Slowly the room was being deserted, it was dinner time but I wasn't hungry. I took the remote and channel-hopped until I found an American news channel. Without realizing it, I immersed myself in that jumble of news items, some sordid, others heroic, others downright scary. Sadly, terrorism was around more than over, insidiously, unobvious, sometimes in minor elements. But my experienced eye knew how to find it. I couldn't remain indifferent, it had been my driving force for so long, inactivity was a crime to me.

I almost stopped breathing when I realized how impossible it was for me to consider remaining far from the action, but being active meant giving up on some fundamental things.

I shook my head, refusing to sacrifice love, my future family.

"How will I do it?" I panicked.

I let myself slump even more in the armchair, tucking my legs under me, wrapping my arms around my child. I felt like crying, again. It was tiresome, tedious, heavy.

"Still angry?"

I jumped, scowled at the untimely appearance of my former colleague.

"Quinn! Get lost!"

He squatted in front of me, resting his arms on the arms of the chair. I wanted to turn around but I didn't have the strength to do it, I just closed my eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"If you think I'll confide in you –"

"You can tell me everything," he insisted quietly.

"I told you what I had to say, just mind your own fucking business!"

He stayed there and waited, I sensed it. Eventually I opened my eyes, exasperated.

"How did you get in the building? Visiting hours are over."

"As if it'd stop me."

"You can't afford being seen."

"Come on Carrie. It won't happen."

It might have sounded pretentious but he was right, and that self-confidence was infuriating.

"Get the hell out of here!"

I slowly stood up and walked to the door. He didn't follow, his gaze on the TV. A meal tray was already waiting for me in my room. I put on my pajamas and started to eat my cold dinner. It was bland, not what I wanted. I dreamed of a good steak, baked potatoes and a glass of wine.

After dinner, I was seized by a violent urge to smoke. The frustration was so strong that I started retching. When I returned from the bathroom, Quinn was there once more.

"Dammit, Quinn! D'you want a punch in your fucking face?"

"Give it a try, I'm curious."

I walked two steps and "bam!" I slapped him. He didn't seem much shaken, quite the contrary actually, I saw a little smile on his face, softening it, which was rather unsettling.

"Nice to have you back, partner."

"You're crazy."

I skirted him and went back to bed, vexed by this lasting nausea. Was it due to stress? Probably. I had that knot in my stomach, and the only way to get rid of it was to fix what was tormenting me. But how?

"Come with us, Carrie, come back to the USA. You'll do the same job unofficially."*

It was tempting. He noticed my doubt, took advantage of it.

"We'll find you a nice little place where you can be with your father, he'll care for your daughter when you're ready to go back to work."

Dad.

"And your sister –"

"Stop!"

I put my hands on my ears. He tried to remove them but I became aggressive, and he stopped. His words bounced in every corner of my head, the damage was done, and I went through hell. I yelled at him, ordering him to go away, again and again. The nausea got worse, arms seized me, moving faces appeared before my terrified eyes. I struggled, distraught, gasping for air. And then a mask covered my nose and mouth, I slowly went numb, stopping my frantic moves. I fought against sleep, muttering Brody's name again and again.

I woke up the next day with a terrible headache. Unable to get out of bed, I was nauseous, exhausted. The fog on my mind dissipated little by little, I remembered what had happened the day before and anxiety squeezed me. I was able to sit and I suddenly felt a strong urge to pee, instead of paging a nurse I gingerly stood on my legs that felt like jelly. By the time I reached the toilets I had had leaks, fuck, how humiliating! Sitting on the john, I cried in misery, I was pathetic.

"Why are you doing this to yourself? It's no big deal."

"Brody?"

No, he wasn't there, it was in my head, the way for my subconscious to reassure me. Anyway, this is what he would have said and he would have been right. I rubbed my face, pulled the shower curtain and turned on the faucets. I set my clothes aside in a heap and threw myself under the stream of hot water. The effect was instantaneous, I relaxed, however I couldn't stay long, my blood pressure dropped quickly in the heat.

Somebody knocked at the door.

"I've brought your breakfast and medication," a woman's voice said in perfect English.

"Thank you."

"Don't stay too long in the shower."

"Sure."

"The doctor will come and see you later this morning."

"Ok."

Good, I had things to tell him!

In front of the mirror, once dry, I found it hard to look at myself. I didn't recognize myself with that hairstyle and color, that translucent body streaked with veins that showed more and more, not mentioning my breast that was big and painful. In a month my body had doubled in size, I felt like a whale, I could hardly see my feet.

No, no, no need to feel depressed. It was just temporary.

I dressed, arranged my hair, and all I wanted was to go back to bed, nagged by that familiar pain in my groin. On the bed, I gulped down the food on the tray, swallowed my foul-tasting pills and slipped under the sheets, exhausted.

Later that morning I was finally able to consider the terrifying issue of my jobless future. Whichever way I looked there was only one solution. That's when the on-duty doctor came in. He was young and amiable. We had talked before, he was considerate. He looked at the file in his hand, spoke for himself then asked me a few questions about what I felt physically.

"It is still painful here – I pointed to the spot – and sometimes my hips and my coccyx are sore. It's not all the time but it's awful. I can't even sit!"

"Your pelvis is widening, nothing unusual."

"Oh really?" I groused, "thanks for letting me know. And what about the heartburns, my esophagus is like a volcano, is there anything for that?"

"I'll add an anti-acidic in your treatment. And is there something else upsetting you?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Yesterday evening –"

"Oh yes," I cut him, "taking about it, I'd like more security in this building, anybody can come in as they please."

"What do you mean?"

"Someone bothered me and it made me a bit jumpy."

"There was no one with you yesterday evening."

"I'm telling you there was."

"And you were not only jumpy," he ignored my remark, "you were having a hysterical fit."

Ok, I knew where he was heading so I'd better shut up or agree with him. I had no choice and I vigorously cursed Quinn under my breath.

"I was a bit under stress, maybe I don't recall properly what happened. All I want is quiet to be able to carry this pregnancy to full term.

"Was it your spouse's visit that disturbed you?"

"No!" I protested, outraged. "On the contrary, he's the stable part of my life, he brings me reassurance."

"Does he understand what's in store for him?"

I sighed.

"Maybe not."

I took some time to think.

"However, he's the only one who can keep me on the right track, he knows how to boost me."

"Quite a burden."

That was none of his business.

"I do the same for him. We need one another, we complete each other, we love each other. So the rest doesn't matter."

OooO

After lunch, I went outside to ponder over what the doctor had said. I saw a few residents; I stayed on the sidelines, didn't speak to anyone, not even to the staff. I couldn't wait for my condition to improve and leave the place. I scrutinized the sky, the sun tried to pierce the clouds, I enjoyed the warmth of some rays, seated on a bench near the fountain. Time stretched lazily, I remained relatively calm, strangely serene.

I had taken my decision.

Then time seemed to slow down, I was eager to put all this into words, to tell Saul. When he materialized before me, my words flooded him and I couldn't hold back the flow. He had to put an end to that verbal mania to sit down and recapitulate.

"You want to train young recruits, go with them in the field while Brody cares for your daughter."

"Our daughter, yes. He'll be a good father, much better than me as a mother."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

"Do you realize how crazy it was to have that child?"

"She is what he needs, she is the proof of my love for him. He'll manage, I trust him blindly even he doesn't know it."

My words enraged him, I didn't care.

"I'll come home at least once a month, I want you to make sure that's how it will be."

"He won't accept."  
"I'll try to explain. I wanted to have it approved by you first."

"It won't be easy Carrie, do you realize –"

"You'll work it out, anyway from the very beginning your goal was to take me back to the US without Brody, wasn't it?"

His face clouded over.

"I should have known, Brody spilled the beans."

"What are you talking about?"

"I told him what I expected from you, he didn't like it."

I was puzzled, why didn't he tell me?

"No kidding. You misjudged him, he didn't come whining to me, that's not like him at all. In the future, if you want us to get along Saul, you stop intruding on my choices, and his. You just leave us alone!"

"Carrie –"  
"You have what you want! Don't split hairs, do what I'm asking you! Make sure he's safe when I'm away and I'll make myself available."

He remained silent, a cautious silence with a fixed gaze that could easily unsettle someone.

"Where's Brody?"

"Waiting in the car."

"And Quinn?"

"I don't know."

"Find him and keep him at bay, I don't want to see him at the moment."

"Why?"

"You know why. I want to see Brody. We have to talk."

OooO

We sat facing each other, he was in the armchair, and I was in my bed. His face had turned ashen and it broke my heart. He had stopped speaking after my monologue, he was dead-still and it distressed me.

"Brody?"

Silence.

"Say something."

Silence. He couldn't look at me. Had I betrayed him?*

"Are you angry? You think I'm being selfish?"

He shook his head no but his gaze didn't cross mine. He rubbed his hands together, kneaded them. I knew I had hurt him.

"I love you you know, don't think I'm letting you down, I could never give up on you but…"

But what? What could justify my hurting him so much?

"You're not meant to stay home Carrie, I know that, and I accept it."

It didn't come as a surprise, he knew me well and he was generous. But the weight remained on my chest. He managed a smile, which finished crushing my traitor's heart. I realized what I was: a disgusting woman who had betrayed our love.

"I'm sorry."

No, no tears. Too late, I was already falling apart, I left the bed to kneel at his feet.

"I only thought of myself."

I put my cheek in his lap, my hand looked for his, found it, and they clenched together.

"Forgive me."

He stroked my hair with his free hand.

"There's nothing to forgive, stand up."

He pulled on my forearms to help me stand back up. I settled in his lap, wrapping my arms around him, a position I liked. It made me feel safe, and it was all I needed at that precise moment. He bent his head to kiss my cheek.

"You gave me back my identity, a family, a goal. I owe you everything," he whispered.

I owed him everything too.

"Is that why you accept all my demands?"

He forced me to look at him. I melted before his eyes shining with tenderness. His fingers ran lightly on my brow, my cheekbone, my nose, the corner of my mouth, and stopped on my chin that he kept in his hand.

"We'll do as you wish, not because I have to but because I love you."

* * *

More to come soon.


	13. Part 12

Thanks to** Terzima.**

Thanks to **kz4valentina **for the review.

**Lipamo **: glad you like my way of understanding Brody. I also love that last sentence, said simply but with so intense emotion.I understand your grudge against Saul, I have it too. Thank you again for your support!^^

We're still with Carrie.

Enjoy your reading !

* * *

**A New Life**

**Part 12**

* * *

**One month later**

I walked up and down the room, ready to go, my suitcase at the foot of the bed. I was eager to leave that place, eager to be with Brody. I hadn't seen him in a week, he was busy according to Saul. I didn't know what he was busy at but it made me skeptical and irritated. Since I had decided to go back to work, he wasn't around as much.

The only good thing was that I hadn't seen Quinn again, Saul told me he had urgent matters to attend to in the US.

"Good riddance," I had grumbled.

I still resented him for upsetting me, for hastening the inevitable. It wasn't fair but so much for that. I was unforgiving anyway.

The whole month had been dedicated to "painless childbirth" classes, a real waste of time in my opinion. I jumped out of bed when Saul entered the room.

"Are you ready?"

"You bet!"

Sitting on the passenger side, I fidgeted, Saul was completing some paperwork. The seatbelt pressed on me, I had gained in weight and size, which annoyed me a lot, and apparently the worst was still to come. At least, I wasn't sore anymore, my blood pressure was ok, and I wasn't as tired, everything was back into place.

When Saul came back, he adjusted my seatbelt with a sort of clip and I felt more comfortable. On the road I didn't see the landscape, my mind was focused on my reunion with my man. He had openly told me he loved me, and had said it every time he came. That's why I didn't understand why he didn't come as often. I had tried to know more but to no avail, he was calm but not very talkative.

It was high time I had my baby, I needed to reach another stage in my life. Form a family was hard to imagine but it was the beginning of that new life.

"How long?"

"We're almost there, be patient Carrie."

Fifteen minutes later, he turned into a side road, then into a lane. I thought I'd see him on the front steps but all there was to see was an old house that I found totally unappealing.

"Fuck Saul! What's this?"

"It's your house."

"What? You're kidding me, right?"

He burst out laughing and took my suitcase in the trunk of the car, it increased my annoyance.

"You're not supposed to get irritated for no reason," he reminded me.

I followed him inside, it wasn't big, the interior design was minimalist and rather modern, the garden was huge with a weeping willow in the middle and a pretty terrace.

"Brody!" I called out several times, going back to the entrance door.

I heard him running down the stairs, he gently took me in his arms, swaying in amazed happiness.

"You're here!"

"Saul didn't tell you?"

"No."

I wanted to shoot him an angry glance but he had left the hallway.

"So you do feel better?"

He straightened up to look at me, I looked at him too and noticed bags under his eyes.

"Yes, I'm better now that I'm here with you."

He helped me remove my coat and hung it on the peg near a shoe cabinet.

"Why didn't you come and visit me last week?"

I didn't want to sound resentful but it was hard.

"I was busy."

He had a gentle and mysterious little smile. He came back to me and slightly bent down:

"I guess you want to know why?"

"Well, yeah!"

"So come with me."

He offered his arm so I could lean on it and guided me to the staircase. As we climbed up the stairs, I felt a bit apprehensive. When we reached the second floor, he asked me to close my eyes, I did it reluctantly, I was not a big fan of surprises.

"All right, open your eyes!"

It was a small baby bedroom. He led me inside and watched me intently, expecting a reaction I didn't have. To regain countenance, I slowly circled the room, alone, and brushed the white clouds on the pale yellow wallpaper, the border strip featured sleeping sheep and the rest of the paper looked like a meadow. It was soothing, delicate, adapted to a young child I supposed. The curtains were white, the yellow of the flooring in faux wood mirrored that of the paper. There was a rocking chair, a closet and a strange-looking dresser that my eyes kept returning to.

"It's a baby-changing table, it's incorporated in the dresser."

Suddenly suffocating, I opened one of the drawers, but it was empty.

"I wanted to wait for you to be here so that you can buy the clothes you like."

He could have done it, I wasn't a big shopper, but the idea of that piece of furniture full of clothes just petrified me, it was the confirmation that my life was about to change for good. He took me by the shoulder and walked me to the middle of the room, right where I didn't want to go at the beginning. There was a baby crib, it was also white, with a colorful mobile hanging from it. It reminded me of Ruby's crib; when Ruby was born, Maggie was so happy that she almost lost her mind.

"So?"

I didn't know what to say. He looked at me with a worried look.

"You don't like it? Maybe I should have waited for you but when Saul offered me the opportunity, I took it."

Saul? I didn't understand anything.

"I was finishing the toy chest when you got here."

There were actually tools spread on the floor near a flat-pack chest half-assembled.

"You've done this by yourself?"

He smiled proudly and nodded.

"It's really pretty."

"Come see the bathroom."

There was a tiny bathtub with little ducks inside, there was also a baby-changing table and lots of various products. My head was starting to steam. A baby required so much stuff!

"I tried to make something practical so that I can handle things when you're away."

He was still smiling but I noticed some kind of sadness. I was unable to ask him how he felt about my upcoming departure. I already felt miserable enough.

"Everything's perfect, Brody."

He nodded, reassured, and guided me through the other rooms. Our bedroom was simple, all in blue tones, and sparsely furnished.

"I did nothing here, left it the way it was, I just added the baby phone."

The phone was proudly sitting on one of the bedside tables, apparently on his side.

"That's where you slept?"

"Yes, but without you, I don't sleep well."

It had come out naturally, like an established fact, a simple observation. It warmed my heart.

"I brought what you left at the cabin back here. But you'll have to get new clothes if you go back to work."

He was already leaving without waiting for an answer, he knew it was a topic better left aside at the moment. We went downstairs into the kitchen, it was plain and basic; he offered me to sit down and set himself to prepare a quick lunch. The smell was appetizing, the clinic was only a bad memory. The future was here, in front of me, making progress with confidence. He opened the French windows and a cool gust of wind caressed my face.

"Where did Saul go?" he asked me, scanning the driveway from the opposite window.

"I don't know and I don't care, I hope he'll leave us alone for a while."

He came back to me and offered to have lunch on the terrace – the sun was grey but whatever. We ate peacefully, talked about this and that, but it all looked unreal to me, strange, too good.

"When you're done, you'll get some rest," he announced.

"I'm fine, I won't remain cloistered and do nothing."

"We'll see."

"What do you mean?"

He didn't answer. When lunch was over, I felt tired.

Shit!

I suppressed a yawn and stood up to stretch. He found himself behind me and put his arms around me.

"If I took a little nap with you, would that make you more receptive?"

Bye bye tiredness, all my senses were awakened.

"We'll see," I teased.

"Go upstairs, I'll be right there."

He cleared the table while I sluggishly went to the bedroom, I was a whale! Those stairs would kill me eventually. I took off my pants and crashed down onto the bed.

"Hurry up!" I commanded.

While the seconds then the minutes elapsed, I felt the weight of sleep carrying me away. I woke up alone two hours later.

"What a – !"

I suppressed an insult, he had duped me!

OooO

A week went by.

We were alone, Saul was nowhere to be seen. We ate, slept, walked in the surrounding woods, and talked about the future in total frankness this time. He was afraid to see me leave and not come back but he never criticized my deeply rooted need to work. I wanted to keep that contact with my country so that in the long term we might be able to go back there, the three of us, once things have settled down.

We were watching a DVD after dinner when he suddenly asked me about our daughter's first name.

"She'll be here in a month, it's time to make a decision."

"I've had time to think it over."

"Yes? So tell me!"

"And why wouldn't _you_ choose a name for her?"

I saw on his face it wasn't a good idea. He stared at the TV screen, feigning interest.

"Why do you refuse to get involved in this particular matter?"

"I'm involved in everything, I'll just let you choose the name."

"So Nicholle is fine?"

"Yes, of course."

But I could tell he still didn't like it.

"All right," I sighed, "here's my idea. There're three names I like, you pick one of them, and I'll be happy with it all the same."

"If you want."

"Brody," I grunted.

"All right, go ahead, I'm listening."

"Andy, Bonnie or Frannie."

"You'll notice than they all end with an "ee" sound."

"It's intentional."

"Except she won't be able to bear my name, you realize it, don't you?"

"Why not?"

"It might be prejudicial to her one day, you know that."

I had thought about it.

"There won't be any link between the two of you, don't worry. And you're her father, she has to bear your name. She has to know where she comes from and how courageous her father is."

He turned away, frowning. I turned his face back toward me with a slight pressure on his cheek.

"Yes, you are, courageous and sensitive."

"And a murderer."

"You've acted for our country."

"Carrie –"

"That's all there is to know."

He shook his head, avoiding my gaze.

"Don't do that," I begged, hugging him tightly. "It's all behind us now, the time when I feared your reactions, when I was afraid of you, it's all over now. I know who you are, I know what you've been through, I know what's in your heart and in your soul."

"And what's in my heart?" he whispered as if he really didn't know.

"Your children - all of them." (it included Issa).

He buried his face in my neck.

"Don't worry about her, we'll tell her everything she needs to know when the time has come. And believe me, she'll be proud of you, proud of us."

It was a certainty as well as an essential need. He straightened up, his eyes shining with emotion swept toward my face.

"So?" I insisted to break up the stillness of the moment, "have you made up your mind for the name?"

He recovered his composure and I relaxed.

"Andy sounds like a boy's name and Bonnie, well, sorry but I hate it. So I'm going for Frannie. Ok?"

"Yep!"

He lifted his hand and I gave him a high five. Frannie moved around, it felt like waves; I lifted my shirt with a grimace and saw the shape of a knee and then a foot.

"She seems to like it," he commented happily, brushing the shadow of her little foot.

OoooO

Two days later, I had an appointment for the last ultrasound.

I could hardly take it anymore, I felt like I would burst if my belly were to expand any further. It was too cramped for Frannie who let me know it when she stretched, torturing my stomach, my ribs, I even cried sometimes behind Brody's back. To bear life was a scary, indescribable experience, and in the end not really appealing.

Saul appeared out of thin air to give me a ride.

"We'll need a vehicle for Brody."

"It's on the list."

He asked how I was but I dodged the question, I wanted to be done with the examination and go back home because without Brody it wasn't the same.

When I came back, there was a vehicle in the driveway.

"You're damn quick to react!"

"You should know by now. Call me on D Day, I have to take a short trip home, so wait till I'm back, ok?"

He handed me a credit card.

"Get what you need for the baby. Don't worry, it will be deducted from your future salary."

I didn't even answer. I put the card in my pocket, waved at him and rushed inside the house where Brody had been watching me from the whole time.

Half-an hour later, sitting on the sofa, we watched the 3D images and his happiness radiated all over me like a sun. We remained there a long time, in each other's arms, savoring long, tender kisses, before finally deciding to go to bed.

OoooO

The following day, we drove to Fontainebleau to do some shopping, I let Brody take what was needed but as I saw him filling baskets, carts and the trunk, I felt icy sweat flooding my back. He tried to get me interested in specific purchases but I was reluctant. The only moment I livened up was when I thought I recognized the little ginger-colored dress I saw in Freiburg. But it wasn't, it was more simple. Still, I took it, turned it around every which way. It was so tiny! Next it was in his basket, and he kept on with his shopping as if nothing had happened. Seeing him strolling peacefully around with shining eyes and a smile on his face was my true idea of happiness. He was happy and it was thanks to me, thanks to what I offered him, and I was filled with love for him in that blessed moment when nothing seemed to be able to spoil our felicity. He had accepted me, had granted me the right to love him and I was indefinitely grateful to him.

Back home, he removed everything from the car while I slowly awoke, I had slept all the way back. I made the effort to prepare dinner while he put all the things away. When I didn't see him come back, I climbed upstairs as quietly as possible – which was not easy – and I surprised him before the dresser with the ginger-colored dress in hand, he seemed elsewhere. Then he resumed folding the clothes without noticing me – at least, that's what I thought.

"You'll need to start packing."

My heart skipped a beat.

"I'll do it tomorrow. I promise."

He flashed a smile, not fooled.

"I can do it if you want?"

I was tempted to accept his offer but that might be going too far.

After dinner, he went upstairs and had a shower.

"I'm exhausted, it was a tiring day."

I followed him to go to bed but sleeping was last on my list. I joined him in the shower – and for someone supposedly exhausted, he showed some energy because making love in such a small place required a lot of acrobatic feats.

Then during the night, I was roused by acute pains, they didn't stop so I had to wake him up. He was quick to react and efficient, I wasn't. I panicked, distraught by how much it hurt, by the imminent arrival of the baby. He asked me to calm down, threw some clothing in a bag, slipped into a pair of jeans and helped me climb down the stairs, put on my coat and my shoes.

"So this is it," he said nervously.

Yes, this was it.

The road to the clinic was long, I was in agony when we got there; I was quickly taken care of and that was the beginning of the utmost misery that lasted more than ten hours.

OoooO

Drained, I lay comatose in bed, the baby was close in the small transparent receptacle that was her crib. She was relatively calm and silent and it was a boon. My eyes instinctively flicked open when I sensed Brody coming. He knocked three times, and showed his head in the opening of the door. I reached out for him, anxious to see his reaction because mine had been disconcerting. I had found myself helpless when faced with the foreign, wrinkled red face whose red hair had been the only element that elicited a smile from me.

He cautiously came closer, caught my hand.

"Are you all right?"

His concerned eyes were drawn to the baby, I didn't try to hamper his desire to see her.

"Can you give her to me?"

I tried to sit up while he skirted the bed with a nod. I felt sweaty, my breasts weighed a thousand pounds, I wasn't fresh, and the stitches hurt, but it was worth it if only to contemplate what showed up on his face when he saw his daughter. I was unable to describe it since it expressed many things, but wonderment was the main one. He was happy.

It was the most important in the end.

He lifted her with care but confidence, he was born to be a dad. I had not been mistaken. He kept her against him for a while, forgetting the rest of the world. He didn't talk to her, he just looked at her, and she did too apparently. They understood each other silently, in a form of communication only known by them. I could have been jealous but I wasn't, I was transported with joy. Two red heads in harmony…

The tears that should have fallen at the moment of delivery finally ran down my face: it was a desperately magnificent sight that sealed my heart forever with an infinite love for these two beings.

* * *

More to come when I can. It will be from Brody's point of view. Two more chapters and an epilogue.


	14. Part 13

Thanks to **Terzima.**

Thanks to **kz4valentina** and **lipamo** for your review.

**Guest** : _I do not pretend __to know __what goes on __in the head of __Brody__, I interpreted __some of his __reactions __in my own way__, but it is __my feeling__, __my opinion.__I needed to __bring closer these two __beings __although,__clearly,__this is not __possible_. *

It took me a long time to write this chapter because my Word processor isn't working properly, the cursor keeps jumping from place to place and it takes me over a minute to write a sentence instead of 10 seconds. I gave up for several days because of that.

We're now back with Brody.

Enjoy your reading!

_(I love all these French words in this part!^^)*_

(*My own translation).

* * *

**A New Life**

**Part 13**

* * *

"Brody"?

I had to force myself to take my eyes off Frannie. Carrie seemed dazzled, amazed, she showed a lot of gentleness and tenderness and her tears increased my feeling of being loved unconditionally at that very moment. And it was something I wanted to return to her, I wanted her to understand how much I could love her too because now, thanks to her, I was a father again.

She reached her arms out:

"Will you give her to me?"

I apologized to Frannie:

"Mom wants her share."

She was still staring at me, her eyes wide open with curiosity. I was tempted to keep her in my arms but I just planted a kiss on her forehead.

"I'll answer your questions later," I promised.

I placed her in her mother's arms and sat down near them. I put my arm around Carrie's shoulders and watched her light finger follow the little curve of Frannie's eyebrows, then toy with her tiny nose, and outline the shape of her chin.

"She looks like you, don't you think?" she asked me.

And she seemed to love the idea. I was already full of Frannie, her odor, her features. I didn't know whether she looked like me, I just knew she was perfect.

Carrie pulled her bonnet off.

"She'll get cold," I warned.  
"Just for a second."

She stroked the thin layer of red hair, smiling endlessly.

"She has such gorgeous hair!" she marveled with emotion.

It was a specific trait that hadn't shown up in my children, and it had reassured me since being a redhead was not always easy; she'd probably be teased at school, however I'd teach her how not to pay attention and be strong. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Carrie put her bonnet back, held her against her and cuddled in my neck while Frannie watched us in turns. It seemed as if she knew us and was just trying to put a face to a voice she had heard from faraway, nestled in the warm womb of her mother. At least, I liked to believe it.

I ran my hands through Carrie's hair, I heard her sigh with delight.

"We did it, we're a family," she whispered.

OoooO

I went around the house to check that everything was ready for them. Then I stood on the front steps, a heavy jacket on my back, a hat on my head, a scarf around my neck, waiting for the women of my life to come back. Saul was supposed to pick them up and deal with some stuff at the same time. I stared at my watch: 1pm. It was still early but whatever, all I could think of was their arrival.

I had visited Carrie and Frannie every day, spent my days with them. Carrie needed to be reassured, she had mood swings and was very tired because she was roused several times at night. She bottle-fed Frannie, she had chosen not to breast-feed her so that she could take her own medication, but I also knew she was scared of it. Yet she felt guilty; I explained it was okay, breastfed or not, Frannie would be fine as long as she ate well.

Every time I had to leave, it broke my heart, and I felt alive again as soon as I returned the following morning. Frannie changed from day to day, I loved giving her bath – Carrie couldn't stand for long – and if she cried because she was cold, I would dress her up quickly with the clothes I had chosen myself. Carrie loved doing her hair – she could spend fifteen minutes on it. We made a good team.

I laughed when Carrie had been confronted to her daughter's first poop, she had almost thrown up.

"I've seen bad stuff, but that's the worst, and that stench!"

So she also let me change Frannie's diapers. They were so tiny, she was so tiny, and I was responsible for her. A heavy responsibility.

The nights here, without her, didn't go smoothly. I had awfully bad dreams: Frannie was snatched from me while we were on a walk, I didn't know by whom or how, I just found myself all alone and unable to find her. I ran around in circles, like a madman, in a sweat, paralyzed, in a panic. I prayed all the gods to bring her back but my prayer was not answered. And then I had to break the news to Carrie…

I sat down to wait more comfortably, impatient, a bit apprehensive. The nightmares reflected my fear. I hoped I would be up to the task, no, I had to be, Carrie counted on me, she had shown the infinite trust she put in me by letting me care about our child.

Our child…

We were bound forever, until the end of our lives. Lives that would be filled with unexpected events because I didn't really know where we were going, all I knew is that we were going there together.

I couldn't help thinking back on my past life, my choices, the terrible mistakes I made that deprived me of all I had. And then love had smiled on

me again, it came by surprise and unhoped for, I wanted to live again thanks to that nonconforming woman who had been tough with me, who had pushed me to my own limits, making me see myself as I really was. And that love had been taken away from me, we had been pulled apart, I had been crushed again and again, with no way to break free, to regain my humanity. Nothing would have saved me, nothing mattered any more –

\- until she pulled me up, in her own manner, with honesty, with love, in absolute sacrifice and without warning. I had tried to fight her, refusing to let her sneak back into my heart, only trying to regain my mental health. And then she had broken the news of her pregnancy, I had been so sorry for her –

\- until she had made me understood it wasn't a catastrophe, quite the contrary, it was the ultimate proof of her love, of our bond, and not only in misery. She saw me as someone who deserved to be loved, appreciated, and understood.

Frannie was the result of this all.

Of course I thought of my other children, wondering what they did now that they could be assured I wouldn't come around and torment them. The desire to see them was still strong, ever-present, and it slashed my heart constantly.

Surprisingly, the pain was bearable now, but it was still there.

It would never go away.

I stood up, feverish, they were here finally, Saul got out of the car and took the suitcase while I greeted Carrie with a tender kiss. Then I skirted the car to open the back door and get my little gem. She was peacefully asleep; I took the baby car seat and, with Carrie, we walked to the house. Saul left the suitcase at the door and turned to Carrie:

"When do I see you?"

"Yes, we need to arrange something."

I let them talk about work, I went into the kitchen with Frannie after taking off my jacket. I put lunch on the stove to heat and washed my hands to remove the bunting she was wrapped in; she whined a little but didn't wake up. I rearranged the blankets around her and waited for her mom to come back.

When she came in, everything was ready, she just had to sit down and eat. She was a bit pale, clearly exhausted.

"Do you want to take a nap after lunch?"

She glanced at me sideways.

"You're being lucky, Mr Brody, if I weren't that beat, I would have shown you one cannot mess with me."

I held back a smile, I had tricked her only once but she was still holding it against me.

"So? What did you speak about with your boss?"

She diverted her eyes, started to eat. I saw she was uneasy about it, she felt guilty of her obsessive need to go and face danger and leave us behind. I didn't resent it, not at all, but the separations to come scared me.

"When are you leaving?" I insisted, unwillingly creating some tension.

Frannie woke up, breaking up the uneasiness. She watched us have lunch then claimed her food; I had practiced several times, I was efficient: several bottles were waiting in the fridge.

She had gulped it all, I carefully put a towel on my shoulder and walked gently with her in my arms – the gestures came back easily – she took some time to burp, I quietly sang a nursery rhyme while rubbing her back. She spat out some milk and went back to sleep, all under Carrie's shining gaze.

"Are you ok?"

She just smiled, I did too.

"Let's go and put her to bed," I suggested.

She followed me, dragging herself around. On the threshold of the baby's room, I waited for her to join me and let her tuck her daughter into the bed. When she came back, she slipped her arm around mine, we remained there, almost transfixed at this odd sight. We were parents…

"What do we do now?" she asked, concerned.

Frannie was sleeping peacefully, I turned the baby monitor on and held out my hand to Carrie.

"We'll get some sleep too."

Lying against her back, I relaxed, smoothed by her regular breathing and the certainty of their presence. I also needed a rest.

OoooO

Settled on her bath tub seat, Frannie seemed to enjoy the warm water. Sitting on the edge of the tub, I proceeded carefully when I had a sudden flashback: I saw myself giving Dana a bath, with the same rubber ducks, the same pink tub, the same baby lotion smell.

"You have a big sister, you know, sweetheart. Her name's Dana."

Uttering her name was painful. My eyes blurred, Frannie started to cry. She was probably tired.

Carrie, who had just woken up, staggered to the toilets, mumbling indistinctly.

"Did I wake you up, honey?"

She shook her head no, beckoned me to continue what I was doing. She was scarily pale. Once Frannie was in bed, I joined her in the bedroom, she had showered, changed and was taking the sheets off the bed.

"This puerperium is killing me," she grumbled, "and it's far from over apparently."

She dumped the sheets on the ground, took fresh ones, I helped her when I saw her wince.

"I'll do it."

Exhaustion got the better of her, she let me finish the job, leaning against the wall near the window.

"I feel completely drained, you know, Brody."

"I can guess."

"And I don't like it, I'm lucky you're here."

"I told you I'd help you, and Frannie's a little angel."

"For now."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, you know – what if – please, look at me!"

"What?" I asked, scrutinizing her.

"What if she is like me?"

"You mean, your condition?"

She nodded, averting her eyes, she was stressed out.

"Imagine, you being in charge of two nutcases?"

I hadn't thought of it. It was kind of freaky actually.

"I'll act accordingly."

"I don't want you to go and buy a newspaper one day and not come back."

"It's too late to warn me, I already love her too much, and I won't leave another of my children behind, it'd kill me."

I knew it when I first set my eyes on my daughter.

She looked down on the floor, saddened.

"I didn't realize what I imposed on you, I mean, about Frannie, I've been very selfish – as usual."

I spread the comforter and rejoined her, took her by the shoulders. I took the time to take deep breaths before answering her.

"Look at me."

I flinched when I saw how scared she looked.

"Look, things are what they are, I don't have all the answers, I don't know the future, we'll have to make do with the cards we've been dealt. And I'm ready."

She scanned me with her piercing eyes, the same eyes she used when she wanted answers.

"All right, so let's make a deal."

"What deal?"

"If things become too difficult to handle, talk about it, don't keep it to yourself and – don't run away."

OoooO

The first night was tough, awakened every three hours, I felt like a zombie the next morning. I sat in the bed for a while despite my daughter's calling but Frannie didn't seem to want to go back to sleep or wait any longer. I was about to get up –

"Wait!"

Carrie had grabbed my hand, she smiled, she looked better.

"Stay in bed, I'll get it."

She hauled herself up into a sitting position and kissed the corner of my mouth.

"Thanks for the good night's rest," she said, putting her robe on.

She trudged away. When Frannie stopped crying, I was able to close my eyes – to wake up in a sweat after that stupid nightmare again. Carrie was there, stroking my cheek, worried.

"You screamed, you called Frannie. How long have you had bad dreams about her?"

I shook my head, unable to respond, still filled with dim anguish. She lay back down against me, placed my face on her breast.

"I'm here, I'm taking care of her, you can let go."

OoooO

One week later, our rhythms were synchronized to take care of the baby.

At times, Carrie was so tired that she could be irritable but I didn't mind, I was tired myself and able to understand. Frannie represented a huge change in our lives, it wasn't easy to find our bearings. Plus we hadn't lived together for long and we were already three, so it was quite insane.

Winter had settled in, I covered Frannie to go on the terrace. She suffered from colic and nothing seemed to relieve her. Carrie had called me for help, on the verge of breaking down. The cool wind surprised her, she gradually stopped crying.

"I know you're in pain sweetheart."

A horrible sensation for a parent to feel helpless when confronted with your child's pain. Back in the living room, I sat on the sofa, Frannie on my belly. She seemed to feel better in that position. She wriggled a little and finally fell asleep. I would have enjoyed to do the same but I feared she would fall. After twenty minutes, I put her back in her cradle.

Carrie was watching TV in our room. At times I caught her dissecting the news, she would systematically turn off the TV when she saw me come in, often in another world, far from me, far from us, for a few seconds. She took notes, spent time on her laptop. The rest of the time she would sleep.

As a confirmation, she turned off the TV and lay down. She was following her treatment, at least that's the impression I had; moreover she had extra medication to stop breast milk production, she complained about side-effects and drawbacks.

"We won't be having sex soon," she groaned, pulling on her t-shirt that suddenly displayed two large wet rings. "I feel so tired and not desirable at all."

She gave up the idea of changing clothes and prepared to sleep.

OoooO

Another week went by.

While we were walking under the weeping willow, she questioned me on my childhood, my life in general, searching for answers. I opened up the doors to my past, the past she didn't know. With her, it was easy to show your true colors.

Days went by, similar without really being the same because Frannie changed every day, became more alert, more attentive, more curious. When there was a lock of hair close to her fingers, she would pull on it instinctively, she closed her hand so tightly that it was hard to set yourself free, and Carrie often suffered the consequences.

She liked to sit in the rocking chair sometimes, watching Frannie dubiously.

"Why doesn't she ever smile to us?" she asked me one morning.

"It's still a bit early. Be patient."

She frowned.

"She's a stranger to me, I can't communicate with her."

She looked at me with worried eyes. I didn't know what to say.

"The midwives gave me lots of advice, lots of books – "

Indeed there were a lot of brochures on her night table!

"—but in the end, we're on our own, and the smallest mistake can take terrible proportions and they'll point their fingers at us."

I kneeled near them.

"You learn to be a parent," I tried my best to reassure her, "and you never really stop learning, you know."

"Not very appealing."

Her candidness made me laugh.

"You're wrong. Believe me."

OoooO

One month later.

Frannie had had her first vaccines, her second medical check-up. Everything was fine yet I didn't feel well.

I thought about it and found out why: the day when Carrie was supposed to leave was fast-approaching – she had finally given me a date.

I had prepared breakfast, washed the dishes of the previous day, and was staring at the sink without seeing it. I had a knot in my stomach, a big one. Anxiety was creeping over me, I felt it. Frannie made a sound, I wiped my hands and lifted her from her chair.

"What about a walk?"

I covered her up in warm clothes, winter wasn't over, spring was late. I arranged her in the baby carrier, and she snuggled up against me.

I left a note on the table for Carrie, and we set off with no definite objective.

It was still early. I started quickly to walk up the two paths. The cool air had a positive effect on me, I slowed down, watching the houses along the way. They were disparate, some as old as ours, others very modern, the contrast was startling. I came across an old man with a beret on his head and a baguette under his arm. The ultimate cliché. He nodded and walked away.

When I gave Frannie a glance I saw she was very attentive to what surrounded her. The look of concentration on her face reminded me of her mother. I couldn't help but smile.

It was a good idea to go out.

In the center of the village, I walked into the already crowded bakery. That habit of eating bread and viennoiserie at all times was really odd. Carrie had tried the _chouquettes_ we had bought out of curiosity, and now she loved them. When the lady saw me, she prepared a whole bag of them right away, she knew me well now. She marveled at Frannie which drew the attention of the other customers. I didn't understand much of what was said but she had a lot of success.

On the way back, she fell asleep, tired by all her adventures.

"There're so many things to see, you know, sweetheart, I hope one day you'll be able to discover the world without me being a hindrance or a cause of distress."

OoooO

Ten days went by and then it was time for her to go. She was so involved in her preparations that she forgot about us. It was hard for me to remain serene, fortunately Frannie required my constant attention and it kept my suffering mind busy.

The night before, Carrie surprised me in bed in a suggestive nightdress.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

Her only answer was to undress completely, and lie there in a lascivious pose. However I sensed her hesitation while I scanned her with desire. Her body had changed, it was slowly recovering from the transformation.

"So do you still like what you see?"

She needed to be reassured.

"Oh yeah!" I exclaimed, throwing myself on her.

When the decisive moment came, I acted with extreme gentleness yet I saw her wince.

"It hurts," I regretted.

"Go on," she commanded, clutching my hips and kissing me passionately.

I did my best not to get carried away, slowly things went back to normal. It was different, tender, intensely carnal. While we were joined, Frannie requested some attention through the baby monitor. Carrie tried to keep us into our own bubble, but to no avail, it was all over.

"So this is going to be our life from now on?" she complained ostentatiously.

I smiled, half amused, half disappointed. I rubbed my nose against hers, my mouth brushed hers, and I had to leave the warmth of her private paradise.

"For a while, yes…"

She started to get up.

"I'll get it."

"No, stay in bed," I ordered, "won't be long."

"I'll be waiting then."

When I came back, she was asleep and I didn't have the heart to rouse her. Frannie woke me up only once that night, as if she sensed I needed to spend some time with her mother.

At daybreak, I woke up with a start, panicked when I didn't see Carrie in the bed. Her suitcase was gone too.

_Tell me you haven't -_

"CARRIE!"

Instinctively I went into the baby's room. They were there, both of them, in the rocking chair again. The grip on my heart loosened. When I came in, she didn't even glance at me, focused on Frannie, her face covered in tears. My hand on her shoulder, I kneeled down, overwhelmed with sadness.

"I know it's hard, love."

She turned her face to me, and it was full of joy despite the tears, which baffled me.

"I was saying goodbye to her, telling her I love her, that I'd be back soon, and that she'd have to take care of her daddy so that he's not unhappy while I'm gone and then – "

Her laugh sounded like a sob.

"—she smiled at me."

* * *

More to come when I can. It will be the last chapter from Brody's point of view.


	15. Part 14

Thanks to **Terzima**

Thanks to **kz4valentina** and **lipamo**

This last chapter was not easy to write. I wanted to address different matters but it will finally be in the epilogue.

We're staying with Brody.

Enjoy your reading!

* * *

**A New Life**

**Part 14**

* * *

**One month later**

It was beginning of April and the weather was mild, it smelled of spring. The trees were budding, some blooming, sometimes I would stay several minutes near one because it was of high interest for Frannie. She was in a phase of intense discovery and caught everything that came within her reach. When I changed her, and kissed her because she had been a good girl, she would try and grab my cheek, my chin or my nose and smile at me, delighted by her catch.

I loved seeing her smile, and I did all I could for her to: I made funny faces, rolled my eyes. These were unique moments and they prevented me from drowning into melancholy after Carrie was gone. Nights were lonely, she woke me up more than once a night. Sometimes I stayed in the rocking-chair and could easily spend the night there. I avoided keeping her in my arms to lull her to sleep even though it was tempting. I systematically put her back into her crib and sang her lullabies to calm her, she would always watched her mobile for a long time, fighting sleep but not succeeding.

I'd had to sort out her clothes once, she was growing up fast, she already wore a size 6-months. We seldom drove out, except for medical checkups and some errands.

We walked across the departments of supermarket; sitting in the baby carrier, her back against me, she reveled in the hustle and bustle, didn't know where to look. I felt immensely proud because she attracted attention and smiles.

I was happy she had come into my life. I was happy to be her father. I was happy to have survived the worst because it had allowed me to know her.

After getting some stuff for the house, including several packs of water, I went to the baby section to get baby milk, diapers and wipes. I stopped before the jars of baby food, didn't know what to choose since I would soon move on to the next stage and introduce fruit in her diet. An experienced mom – she was quick in picking up the jars she needed – smiled when she saw I was at a loss and gave me some advice. Since I didn't understand, she showed the apple jars and also the banana ones. I thanked her and followed her advice.

I was also careful to stay reasonable in the way I spent the money that wasn't mine even though Carrie said it was.

"I work for the three of us and this idea makes me happy, so you'll have to put your manly pride aside," she had admonished me on her last call.

I knew how to control myself but I could never resist buying a new cuddly toy for my daughter. As a result, I was stuck again before the large array of toys and another mom recommended a little plastic giraffe. She pointed at Frannie's mouth and I understood she was referring to the teeth that were already bothering her.

Truly enough, back home and freshly sterilized, the giraffe went through rough times: it squeaked, chewed on furiously and squeezed non-stop by Frannie.

OoooO

Once in a while, I received a call from Carrie on the landline telephone. I knew it was her since she let it ring two times, hung up and called again. I could easily spend an hour with her, we would never mention her work, she just wanted to know how we were doing. Then she said she loved me and I said I loved her too and we hung up.

I felt lonely since she'd left despite the presence of my little love; I missed adult talks. Sometimes I came across my neighbors but the interaction was limited since my French was sparse and so was their English. There was a small park where I often went and sometimes I would meet with Nadège, a young mom who was able to converse more easily with me. Her daughter was five years old, she loved hugging Frannie who seemed to enjoy it too. I talked about Carrie and she would talk about her husband who was also away. In the end, we lived the same life except that she didn't have to hide and she wasn't in exile. Despite its shortcomings, I missed my country and on certain days, I dreamed of going back there.

OoooO

Mid-April, Frannie celebrated her fourth month.

I had laid an activity gym – with jungle animals hanging from two arches – in the living room; lying on her back, she tried to catch what was of interest to her. Sophie the giraffe had been put aside, it would last until Frannie tired of the new toys that she saw. Once in a while, she was able to turn around on her belly. The first time, it had been such a big surprise for her that she had cried but seeing how enthusiastic I was, she had stopped crying and focused on her new options. I marveled every time she showed some progress, congratulated her warmly, and she babbled in return.

I had experienced the same moments in another life, yet it felt like the first time.

Now I told myself that my children were the reason for my existence on this Earth. Carrie had been right to push me into accepting this new life. I started to see the real me, Nicholas, coming back, as I was before war and hatred poisoned my heart and stole my humanity.

OoooO

One week later, I tried a baby food jar for the first time in the afternoon. Seated in her chair, Frannie seemed interested when she saw the spoon. The first mouthful was not an easy matter, she made a disapproving grimace and spat everything out on her bib. I made another attempt, she accepted again, frowned and spat out the food, more violently this time, and my face became a field of dripping apple compote.

"Frannie!" I scolded.

She laughed out loud, and it was impossible to remain angry, so I laughed with her.

"I see one's having fun here."

My heart fell to the ground. I straightened up quickly, and remained still as a statue, waiting for Carrie to join me. Leaning on the wall of the entrance to the kitchen, she was like a heavenly apparition. She put her bag on the floor and finally walked up to me, grabbing a towel on the way. I stared at her while she gently cleaned my face, a mocking smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"She's giving you a hard time?"

"Like her mother," I shot back.

She heard the gibe, erased her smile, stopped her hand.

"You're not happy I'm back?"

Her absence had hurt me, that's why I was a bit blunt, but what was the point? She was here, and it was the most important. She waited anxiously for an answer. She looked prettier than ever. I stroked her cheek, brushed her lower lip with my thumb. She leaned towards me, expecting something that took too long to come.

"I'll finish with her food, go to the room and get some rest, I'll be right there."

She didn't protest, disappointed, and bent over Frannie to give her a kiss.

"Hi sweetheart, I'm home, I hope you've been a good girl to daddy?"

Frannie watched her intently, puzzled. Carrie's smile faded a little.

"Honey, it's – mom." The word came out hesitantly.

No smile in return. Carrie tried to lift her, Frannie started crying. She put her back down right away, white as a sheet. I tried to reassure her but she turned away briskly.

"I'll go have a shower."

I made no move to change her mind, I was helpless. I heard her heavy step going up the stairs, dragging her suitcase behind her. Frannie had stopped crying, she was watching me with shiny eyes, probably expecting me to take her in my arms, which I did.

Twenty minutes later, she was asleep with a full stomach; I had some thirty minutes before me. In the bedroom, Carrie was in her underwear and brushing her wet hair in front of the full-length mirror. Her figure was more slender, only her hips showed she'd just had a baby. I saw in the mirror the reflection of her upset face, she'd been crying and it broke my heart. I stood behind her and stared at her through the mirror. She questioned me silently.

"She hasn't forgotten you, she won't, ever, and I won't either, we missed you, I missed you."

I made her turn around toward me and kissed her with fury, she was receptive, which increased my brutality: I wanted her to know how much I had suffered from her absence. I forced her to step backward to wedge her against the wall, I bared her breast and slipped my hand into her panties. She didn't seem surprised by my eagerness, she was impatient herself to undress me. Then everything turned into a blur, I could only make out her moans which became screams as I lost myself inside her without the slightest restraint. A flash of lucidity made me try to muffle her screams but she didn't let me, shook my hand off to fully express her pleasure, seized my neck, her head bent back, she wrapped her legs around my hips. I almost lost my balance, the wall held us back. I possessed her body and her soul and felt almighty when she abandoned herself in my arms and her thighs tensed, transmitting the intensity of her orgasm that triggered mine.

Only five minutes had gone by, five minutes! I put my clothes back on, feeling miserable.

"Well, I'll go have another shower," she laughed, readjusting her underwear.

She realized I was silent, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, down.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

She sat by my side, put her arm around my shoulder.

"Talk to me, I can't always guess what's bothering you."

"Usually, you can though," I couldn't help protesting.

"Yeah, but right now, my brain is numb, but I don't mind, I love it when we fuck."

I didn't like the word, she saw it on my face.

"What? Isn't it what we just did?"

"No, it's not."

"Of course it is, and I loved it, it's been so long; when I was pregnant, you would hardly touch me. I didn't feel very desirable."

"You were, you still are, you have no idea how much, I daydreamed of you all the time these past several days."

She kneeled down around me, wrapping her arms around my neck. We were facing each other, our eyes locked, there was no room for secrecy. I scanned her face, I knew it by heart, and emotion overwhelmed me before her gaze filled with trust and gentleness.

"Happy to be the object of your fantasies."

"If I'm crazy about you, it's not only for your body," I corrected.

"That's not what my sore body's telling me," she smiled playfully, "five minutes longer against that wall and I'd have ended up on temporary layoff."

"You're making fun of me," I sighed.

"Yes, I love seeing you embarrassed, it's so easy to do."

"If I didn't need some time of recovery, I would have made you taste more of that wall."

"All talk, I'd like to – "

I pushed her down on the bed, toppled with her. She was under me, her eyes wide with surprise. On top of her, I couldn't take my eyes off her. She made me so happy, her simple presence soothed me, made me feel complete. She stroked my cheek. I closed my eyes and put my forehead on hers.

"I came back sooner because I missed you terribly," she confided. "And I heard you did too, in your voice, each time I called you."

A weight lifted from my heart, she understood my torments.

"I don't want to be a cause of sorrow for you, I can't take it. That's why I'm trying to find a way to bring you both back to the US."

I whipped my head up to watch her.

"Yes, you heard me, that's my goal, I don't know how long it'll take but we'll make it."

She had that determined look on her face that I was sometimes wary of. This time, I trusted it.

"I knew you'd like the idea."

"And how will you do that?"

Frannie made herself heard.

"We'll talk later, I'd like us to go out with Frannie."

"Where to?"

"Paris."

OoooO

We were strolling on the Champs Elysées. If Frannie had a lot to watch, I did too and didn't know where to look. She was wrapped up warmly, nestled comfortably in her buggy. Carrie had slipped her arm into mine and followed my pace, her head resting on my shoulder. She had swapped her gray suit for a short, black belted dress. The belt of her beige trench coat was knotted around her waist, underlining it, and her hair was tied up in a loose bun. She had made her face up carefully, she was like a model in a fashion magazine.

The three of us, freely walking around the streets of Paris. It was like a miracle, I couldn't believe how lucky I was.

"I'm getting hungry."

"Quinn's mentioned a place where they make great hot-dogs."

I tensed when I heard the name.

"You're friends again?"

She gazed at me, impassive.

"Let's say that we put the cards on the table."

_What kind of cards? I wondered._

"Yeah, right."

"You're jealous?"

"Don't play that game."

Bye bye serenity.

"I'm not playing any game," she said, puzzled. "I'm just asking you a question."

"I'm not jealous, only careful."

"So no hot-dog?"

"No hot-dog," I confirmed.

"All right, I saw a McDonald's' on the way, you want to walk back there or take the subway?"

"No subway, thanks. People are crazy here. I'd rather walk."

Seated at a table among a few other customers, we ate in peace and quiet , Frannie was asleep. Carrie rummaged in her purse and withdrew an envelope she put on the table.

"Happy birthday," she said.

"My birthday has already passed, and I told you –"

"Yeah, I know, none of that between us, and I agreed, but – listen, I celebrated my 35th birthday far from both of you and I understood I wanted all that stupid stuff. Birthdays, Christmas, Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, Father's Day, family vacations… I want all of it!"

I stared at her, bewildered, not knowing how to react to such flip-flop.

"I yearn for family monotony with you."

I sought for the slightest hint of a joke but she couldn't be more sincere.

"Why that change?"

"You're responsible for it."

"You were gone a month, how can I be responsible for it?"

"It was before I left, seeing you taking care of Frannie gave me a foretaste of what could be true happiness."

"So why did you leave?"

I needed to vent. She took the blow, averted her eyes, it was often what she did when she couldn't handle properly her emotions, or when she was hurt.

"You're being unfair."

"Answer me."

"You know the reason."

"Tell me."

"I was scared –"

There we were. I waited patiently for her to continue.

"- scared of remaining passive while our country was taking horrible blows, it felt like betraying my father, my sister and nieces."

I could understand.

"I was also scared not to be up to the task as a mother and fall back into a depressive phase –"

That I could also understand.

"But mainly, I was scared you'd realize you were being shortchanged by burdening yourself with a family of nutcases."

And it killed her.

"How can you believe something like that? We talked about it more than once!"

"You have no idea –" Her voice broke off. "You have no idea what's in store for you."

She swallowed her tears and stood up.

"I'll go get some fresh air."

She pushed the envelope near my hand.

"Open it."

I didn't think of holding her back, focused on the envelope. I wondered what was inside, my heart beating faster.

_Why wait, open it you stupid._

There were photographs inside. My chest tightened, I tried to breathe correctly; blinded by tears, my eyes saw a blurred image of Dana. I wiped my eyes to gaze at the smile on my daughter's lips who was walking down a street hand in hand with a young man. She looked good, seemed to have regained some weight. Her hair was shorter and darker. I forced myself to take a new picture, it was her again, in close-up, and I took delight in looking at her. I can't tell how long it was before I proceeded to the next picture. She was with Chris in a fast-food restaurant, he had changed too, his hair was longer; sitting opposite each other, they were chatting. There was a last photo, I was a bit reluctant to look at it, I knew that this feeling of fulfillment would be short-lived, that after, it might be hard to get over it.

My heart missed a beat, I recognized the pic, it was from almost two years ago, when I was still with Jess. It was the four of us, close to one another, in chaotic positions but always filled with love.

I was gone, I was over there…

Something took me out of my memories. Frannie was crying, I quickly put the photos away and leaned over her. She was reaching her arms out to me, willingly or not, I could not resist the drive to take her in my arms. Maybe she was a little hot, I uncovered her and searched the bag for some water. While she was drinking, concentrated on my face, I felt better, the weight on my heart had lessened.

My gaze shifted toward the window a few feet away, Carrie was staring at me, and had been doing so for a while, I guessed. It was windy and rainy outside, yet she was stock-still, like a sentinel standing guard. I sensed her anxiety, it was palpable even from where I was. I put down the empty bottle, walked toward her instinctively, Frannie still in my arm, and pushed the entrance door open. I jammed the door with my foot and held out my arm to grab Carrie. She accepted to get in and I drew her against me with my free arm, ignoring the way people stared at us. She was drenched, shaking like a leaf, she hid in my neck. She was so fragile sometimes. She was at that very moment. I kissed the top of her head while whispering a thank you filled with love.

"You want to go home?" I offered.

She nodded without a word.

OoooO

Before going to bed, Carrie went downstairs to get something. She came back with the bag she had left in the kitchen when she arrived. Inside, there was a large, empty photo frame. I smiled endlessly. I proceeded to remove it from its packaging and to place every picture in the vacant apertures. I mixed the pictures of Frannie that had been taken at the maternity ward and those of Carrie's family that she kept in the drawer of her bedside table. It formed a harmonious and reassuring combination. I held it in front of us.

"That's a nice family we have here, don't you think?"

"A beautiful family, yes," she agreed, unmistakable happiness showing on her face.

* * *

More to come when I can. It will be the epilogue.


	16. epilogue

Thanks to **Terzima** who spent a lot of time on my fic so I could share it with you. She did a remarkable job, so precise, that I still wanted to congratulate her*.

Thanks to **kz4valentina **and **lipamo **and **Guest** for your review. I love them. They make me happy*.

Here comes the end of the fic.

We're staying with Brody.

Enjoy your reading.

*(my own translation)

* * *

**A New Life**

**EPILOGUE**

* * *

We were in the middle of August.

Carrie had left twice in the meantime. The separations were still painful, yet I was more relaxed, I was getting used to them.

It was nice and warm, I had set a slide in the garden, as well as a little swing and a paddling pool. Frannie liked spending time in the garden, at the park and in her walker. There, she was the walking baby, she became bold and adventurous, I was often on the verge of having a heart attack.

I still met Nadège at the park. It was a way to escape from loneliness. One month before, I had met her husband and he had invited me for dinner at their place. I wasn't sure it was a good idea, I didn't want to answer questions on my past, with the risk of a blunder or a slip of the tongue, but eventually, everything went fine. When Carrie was there, we would go out more often, she didn't like staying confined in the house.

I did my best to keep myself entertained while Frannie slept or played in her playpen. I read, listened to music, gardened, watched TV, trimmed the hedge, did some minor renovations.

I also thought of the future, something impossible to do one year earlier.

Frannie, settled in her playpen, made a hell of a racket with all her toys. I often changed her bib because she drooled like a fountain, yet, there was no teething on the horizon. She now tried to stand up each time she could hold on something; I could sense her gazing at me when I watched the news on TV, chirping some bas, tas, das…

"All right, coming, little devil," I pretended to protest while turning off the TV.

I took her out of her playpen and we went on the outdoor deck, she pointed at the garden. I had laid a quilt on the grass, we sat there and she started to crawl away, delighted to head off on an adventure. I followed her like her shadow, preventing her from chewing grass or flowers. I helped her take turns on the slide and on the swing, she loved it, laughed out loud. She was a happy baby and her happiness was contagious.

"Sounds like a lot of fun when I'm not here!"

I stood up, Frannie in my arms. Carrie liked to do that: arrive without notice. Frannie reached out for her mother who ran to her.

"Hi honey."

She cradled her in the crook of her arm, her gestures tried to be maternal, she really tried and I encouraged her.

"Has your hair grown a bit?" Carrie asked her, stroking her hair.

"I don't know how to do her hair, it's all spiked up," I complained.

"Still no teeth?"

"Not one in sight," I sighed. "We'd think so though looking at the way she tortures poor Sophie."

Carrie put Frannie down and hugged me. She was tired, little bags under her eyes, yet she had a mischievous expression that was intriguing. She tried to kiss me, I dodged all her attempts playfully.

"Hey!" she laughed.

She achieved her ends because I cooperated, but she started laughing again:

"Frannie, let go of my leg!"

I bent down and saw our daughter hanging onto her mother's pants, swaying dangerously on her legs, staring at us with her eyes blue as the sky. She wanted to be part of the reunion. She fell on her bottom and started to cry. Carrie sat down to take her on her knees, she bounced her gently and her daughter loved it.

I sat down by their side, she kept on playing with Frannie. She shot me a few glances.

"You look tired, how about some vacations?"

"Where?"

"By the sea?"

"If you want."

She turned to me, disappointed:

"We don't have to, if you'd rather stay here –"

"No!" I reassured her, "it's just that it's terribly appealing but we're a long way from leaving, we haven't booked anything."

"What, d'you think I'm a blonde? We have one hour to pack and then, on our way to the Gare de Lyon station."

OoooO

Sitting in first class on the TGV heading to Barcelona, Frannie was sleeping – covered up because of the air-conditioning – in the carrier of the baby carriage on the seat near Carrie. She was opposite me, scanning the landscape, her mind somewhere else.

"What are you thinking?"

"I was able to monitor my family a bit, my dad's tired, it's hard for my sister to deal with it on top of her job and kids."

"And there's nothing you can do for them."

"Right, nothing I can do. I wanted so much to be with them, you have no idea, to erase that sadness from their faces."

At least, they suffered from her demise, which was not the case of my own family. My eyes also went wandering away.

"Don't think it's not hard for your family too," she said suddenly.

"I –"

She was watching me, her head slightly bent sideways, I didn't know what to answer. Hoping they were sad was selfish, I wanted my children to be happy with or without me.

OoooO

Sitting on a large bath towel, protected by a giant beach umbrella, I watched Frannie who was playing near me with her shovel, bucket and watering can. As soon as she felt like swallowing sand, I intervened. It was no easy ride and yet, I felt good, relaxed, not stressed at all by the crowd.

I had smeared sunscreen all over her and put a hat on her head, she was adorable in her red polka dot swimsuit. My eyes searched for Carrie, she had gone for an ice-cream. She was coming back with her trophy that she savored with great pleasure, and let herself slump down by my side.

"Want some?"

I tried to guess the flavor.

"Chocolate mint," she helped.

"Yuck."

She didn't care and pressed her ice-cream on my mouth; I pulled back, annoyed, she laughed before kissing me in a provocative manner, licking each millimeter of my mouth. I was suddenly in a trance.

"You shouldn't do that," I scolded her when she finally drew back.

"I know."

Now, I was very hot, I wanted to take my t-shirt off but I didn't want to expose myself and be the object of inquisitive stares. She offered some to Frannie who screwed her face up and spat it out on her bib.

"See, it's yucky."

She laughed even more. Since she'd been back, she was expansive, excessive, exuberant; I guessed she was in a high phase but I avoided to reflect on the low phase that might follow.

When she was done with her cone, she stood up and untied her pareo, revealing her yellow bikini that was ridiculously small. She ran up to the water, dove into it. I would have liked to join her in order to rein in the interest of some onlookers. Instead, I offered a bottle of water to Frannie who managed to drink it by herself like a big girl. This need I had to mark my territory, to claim that this woman was mine was disturbing.

I lay down for a minute with a book in hand. Frannie showed up near my face, on all fours, I put down my book to take care of her, she bent down and bit my nose.

"Frannie!"

I had almost drowned in a pool of drool. I lifted her up easily to put her back in a sitting position and searched our beach bag for a clean towel. I heard a little laugh nearby, a woman was gently making fun of me. Frannie returned to battle, climbed on my thighs, clutched my arms then my shoulders to pull herself up and stood upright in front of me. It was the ideal moment for a daddy-daughter discussion:

"Daddy's not happy," I chided her.

"Da-ddy."

I froze, wide-eyed, and it made her laugh.

"Da-ddy," she said again.

Was it syllables one after the other or was she really calling me "Daddy"?

Impossible to tell, a bunch of young guys that were passing by whistled at Carrie who was coming out of the water, wet, sexy as hell with a hip sway worthy of a Hollywood star; she didn't pay attention, focused on me, I forgot where I was. She beckoned us to join her:

"The water's excellent, come on!"

Frannie seemed enthusiastic at the idea of joining her mother. She jumped around, Carrie saw it, smiled and came nearer to take her in her arms. I liked seeing her closer to her daughter. I followed them, arm floats and a towel in hand; they sat down at the water's edge, and Frannie let out a scream when the water touched her, it came and went over her feet.

"It's a bit cold," I worried.

"Wait," Carrie insisted.

Frannie started to wiggle, her feet running an endless race while Carrie held her up. Each tiny wave was a surprise and made her laugh out loud.

Back at the hotel, Frannie, in her mother's arms, reached out for me, rubbing her eyes.

"Daddy."

The effect was more direct since I knew she was calling me, that it was not pure chance. We stopped, Carrie and I both deeply elated. She watched us in turn, rubbed her eyes again, started to cry. I was loaded down like a pack mule, I couldn't satisfy her request. Carrie rocked her, she calmed down and eventually fell asleep.

"She's quite heavy," she complained for form's sake, resuming our walk. "Right, Daddy? That's the result of stuffing her with food."

I didn't react, still in shock. We were near the hotel, I punched in the entrance code, then Carrie walked up to the elevator.

"I'll take the stairs."

I didn't give her time to answer. I paused on the second floor, taking deep breaths, but no matter how hard I tried, I could barely hold back my tears.

OoooO

Two weeks had gone by, we had come back the previous day. The landline phone rang twice, stopped then rang again. Carrie rushed down the stairs, I was already on my way to pick up. Puzzlement showed on her face, frowned eyebrows and a deep furrow in the middle of her forehead.

"I'll get it."

"Why isn't Saul calling on your cell?"

"The cell's for work. If he calls on the landline, it means it's personal."

It didn't reassure me. She picked up, listened, fell apart.

OoooO

The death of her father had made her sink into deep depression, she had instinctively sought comfort in me, fought not to let herself drown.

She got up at dawn, went into the bathroom. I went back to sleep.

When I opened my eyes again, she was packing.

"What are you doing?"

"Going back to work."

I jumped out of bed, suddenly stressed-out. I stopped her in her packing.

"Don't do that, Carrie. Don't flee."

She resisted, pushed me away.

"I've got to go!"

She closed her suitcase and rushed out of the room like fury. The shock left me motionless, when I heard the door slam, I regained control of myself. The time for me to run down the stairs and open the front door, she was already in a cab. Stunned, I sat on the front steps, hoping she would change her mind and come back.

Frannie was calling me.

As soon as I walked inside her room, she smiled at me, already standing, holding onto the crib bars. I kneeled down, watching her through the bars. It hurt, it hurt so much, I bowed my head not to break down.

"Daddy?"

I closed my eyes, distressed, gathering the strength to break the news to her. She slipped her arm through the bars, her hand landed on my cheek. This mark of affection encouraged me:

"Mom has left, sweetheart. She wanted to say goodbye but she didn't have the time."

OoooO

After a month without any news from her, she had eventually come back, her arms full of presents for Frannie. She gave her a phenomenal welcome that lessened my anger. If she was happy to see her mother, there was no reason to spoil such a precious moment.

Carrie walked with her all around the house, as if she were a shield between us.

"Don't think it will exempt you from a discussion," I warned her.

I went upstairs to find some peace; slumped on the rocking-chair, I looked at the family photo frame on the wall. I often showed it to Frannie, she always examined all the pictures carefully. Each time, it was a unique moment, filled with emotion. I heard them laughing downstairs, the tension vanished. My family was back together, I had to enjoy it, explanations would come later.

Carrie watched me anxiously as I walked towards her. Her cheeks were sunken, she had dark circles under her eyes, her face was drawn with sadness. I sat down on the carpet, among the open boxes, and joined Frannie in her pleasure of discovering her new toys. Little by little, Carrie moved on the carpet to get closer to me. She leaned her head on my shoulder, took my arm between both of hers. I shared her pain, I couldn't hold it against her, blame her, at least not this time. I put my hand on hers.

"Do you feel better?"

"I do now."

"I so wished I could have helped you."

She squeezed my arm tighter.

Frannie moved about and laughed, breaking the heaviness of the moment. My eyes set on her, the pain faded and gave way to serenity.

OoooO

A little while before her birthday, Frannie took her first steps, I was alone to enjoy the event and it made me sad. I was also tired, I'd had sleepless nights because she was teething, the first tooth had showed up the week before. She chewed on everything and anything, it was distressing. She was more open toward baby jars and the veggies I prepared for her. She was a little foodie, loved petits-suisses, cookies and many other things.

She could drive me crazy because she was stubborn, sometimes threw major tantrums. She dealt well with her mother's absence, I talked about her, showed her picture, insisting on "mommy" and one day, she finally said it. I got all excited, unable to reach Carrie, I complained as soon as she called me two days later.

"Imagine something serious happens, I can't reach you."

So she had found a way to give me numbers where I could get through to her in case of emergency.

Then as Frannie just took her first steps, I couldn't help but call her mom. She called me back within minutes and got all excited too.

"I can't wait to see that, I'll be back before Christmas, in no more than a week."

She arrived a few days earlier, had her share of amazement when Frannie used "mommy" for everything and nothing. She had a hard time getting used to it, it was as if Frannie called somebody else.

She participated in Christmas shopping: she wanted a big tree, and many more presents for Frannie, who was enthusiastic, settled in the cart.

"Maybe it's too many presents," I hesitated.

"I know, but she's alone so I compensate with presents."

"It's not a solution and she's not alone."

"I mean, there're no kids around her, she has cousins and doesn't know them."

What could I answer? Maybe –

Something crossed my mind.

"And what if she… if… you think a brother or a sister…"

I stopped speaking when I saw her staring at me wide-eyed.

"I thought I was the crazy one," she said eventually.

I was hurt, swallowed my offer. She put her hands on my chest, grabbed the collar of my shirt.

"It's unreasonable, I don't have the strength to live without my treatment again, to be afraid of having a child who might suffer from the same condition again – and to impose another burden on you."

Yes, it was unreasonable, and also unimaginable to embark on such a dangerous venture, I still didn't allow myself to be happy sometimes, and yet, I was asking for more. I wanted to multiply this happiness, I knew it was a very selfish need.

"You're no burden, Frannie isn't either."

She looked down, hiding her tears.

"That's what you're saying now."

I didn't answer, only time would prove I wasn't going to desert her. Instead, I held her against with one arm, using my other arm to feed Frannie a snack.

OoooO

On Christmas Eve, we stayed home, had a simple dinner consisting in a deli takeout, the atmosphere was strangely melancholic. We both felt something was missing and it wasn't easy to suppress the feeling. Settled on the sofa near the fireplace, our stomachs full, we enjoyed the quiet around: Frannie had fallen asleep in her mother's arms – as an exception, I hadn't put her to bed. Carrie was exhausted but she insisted on our waiting for midnight at the foot of the tree where presents were piled up.

"Make a wish," I told her when the time came.

She closed her eyes, concentrated, and when she opened her eyes, asked me to make one too. It wasn't hard to find, I realized I had several actually. So I cheated a little and made two.

OoooO

On the day of my fortieth birthday, she came home at night without warning – she had been gone only two weeks and I didn't expect her. The attention touched me deeply.

"40 years old is a good reason to celebrate! We're dining out tonight!"

Frannie finished her meal and we quickly prepared ourselves for the evening. While we had dinner in a restaurant in a town nearby, she helped herself to a few glasses of Champagne, and I allowed myself only one glass of wine that Frannie tried to drink, but I was used to her trying to set her hand on everything and wasn't caught off-guard. Carrie's present was momentous: we were finally going home. Unable to finish what was on my plate, I received the news with caution, I was afraid to rejoice, to be disappointed.

"I know how to relieve your stress."

She paid the check and ushered us to the car. I was strapping the baby when she pulled me back, jammed me against the front door and showed me clearly how much she wanted an intimate encounter. She was so forward it was hard to resist and not make a spectacle of ourselves. I drove and tried not to think about what was to come, I needed to remain clear-headed. She went up to the bathroom to freshen up while I put our little treasure in her crib.

I was undressing when she appeared at the door, my senses flared up at the sight of her second present she was wearing. That night was particularly torrid…

The following morning, I got up late, she was gone already. Frannie was quietly playing in her pen.

OoooO

One more month went by before our planned departure, she arrived with Saul the day before. I had packed some things already but there was still work to do. Carrie was so excited, she jumped here and there like a bunny, her restlessness was exhausting. Frannie ran behind us as much as she could and it slowed us down a lot.

The night seemed like it would never end.

When the time had come to leave, it was very hard to say goodbye to that house which had become my home.

On the plane, I was preoccupied, feverish, nervous. Saul was chatting with Frannie under my excessive scrutiny, but I didn't trust him. Carrie was in the bathroom, and it had been too long, I realized. I went and knocked at the door.

"Honey, are you sick?"

She came out, a little pale.

"Is something wrong sweetheart?"

She handed me something and returned to her seat. My heart stuttered when I saw I had a pregnancy test in my hand.

And it was positive.

I remained still and erect like an electric pole, my brain boiling with millions of emotions, between disbelief, joy, fear…

"Brody," she called, "come and sit down, we'll be landing soon."

She had taken our daughter back and looked at her intently. Frannie offered her musical book to her:

"Take."

She had started saying other short and simple words, I watched her progress with wonderment.

I slipped the test in the pocket of my jacket and joined them, as expressionless as I could but it wasn't easy. I sat on my seat, I wanted to talk to her but I was annoyed by Saul's presence. So when he stood up to go back to the cockpit, I turned to her but she remained focused on Frannie.

"Saul mustn't know for now, he's gonna be pissed," she warned.

She didn't seem much stressed. I took the test out of my pocket.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm two weeks late."

"No, I mean, are you sure? Or did I force your hand? Is it what you want? Or is it an accident?"

"I thought about it for a month, stopped the pill, and there we are."

"Are you afraid?"

"Hell yeah. Stop my medication again, it'll bring complications, but it won't be the first time."

"What made you change your mind?"

"Frannie, she'll need a sister, it's important, a sister."

"Maybe it'll be a boy."

She brushed her belly lightly.

"He'd better not."

She was quite serious, I didn't mind, and I slipped my hand inside hers in irrepressible need; Frannie straightened up to put her hand on hers too. Looking at her, I knew it couldn't be that selfish a decision.

"Are you happy?"

The fear in her voice was perceptible.

"Yes."

I kissed her, Frannie pushed my face away from her mom's. Carrie burst out laughing, I did too, it was liberating. There was room left in my heart, no more poison circulated in there, I was receptive to life, to love. An immoderate love for this woman who had pieced myself back together, who had given me back what I had lost.

Carrie took us in her arms and clasped us against her.

"We're going home, the four of us."

The hope for this new life was a promise of happiness.

* * *

It's hard to leave a fic you like, particularly when there is so much more to tell, however, I loved writing it and thanks for reading me and supporting me all along.

See you soon.

Clarisse.


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